The Hunt for Hermione
by AprilGrey
Summary: Hermione's gone and it's Snape's fault. HG/SS, RL/OC.
1. Default Chapter

The Hunt for Hermione

Disclaimer:  It all belongs to Rowlings, except what you don't recognize.

SS/HG, RL/OC Rated G for now.

**Heading on up**

Hermione was in trouble again. Her feet hurt, her back ached and she had almost without thinking hexed her boss. That jackanape, Derek, had been driving her crazy during her shift and she'd had just about enough of him. Thank the Gods that today was payday and then she'd be out of there. Two weeks as an undocumented laborer in a coffee shop had been quite enough, thank you. And now she had saved enough to travel from Leeds to London with a bit to tide her over in case of emergency. Once in London, she would be staying with a childhood friend who she hadn't seen since she'd left for Hogwarts seven years back. She stepped out of the restaurant into the alley to get a breathe of fresh air and to calm herself. Joey the busboy, all muscles, spiked hair and piercings, was already out there, having a smoke. 

"Oy, Harriet, Derek's been a right pain tonight." Hermione sighed. Joey offered her a cigarette. "Here, take one to calm your nerves." 

"Thanks, but no thanks." 

"So are you an actress or a singer?" 

"Why would you think that?" She really didn't want to talk, but it was better than brooding over her real reason for being there. 

"Well, you just have this charisma about you, doll. Like magic. Something's special about you. I know that you're having a hard time of it here, but I can tell you're going places." He ground the stub of his fag under his heel and headed past her back into the kitchens. 

"Thanks, Joey. You're very kind." 

"Aww, don't mention it." He gave her a pat on the arm and headed in.She took a deep breath and thought about there only being 1 more hour to her shift and freedom. And she thought Snape was bad. At that thought, tears came to her eyes and she had to think about something else, anything else. Just get through the shift. Get the money and catch the evening bus to London to her friend. Once there she could relax and tomorrow she could sneak into Gringott's take out her money, and then what? Find another undocumented job and, and… 

Who am I trying to fool? She thought. My life is over. A sniffle of misery threatened to start tears to fall. Okay, she told herself, self-control. One step at a time, one day at a time. Just like you've been doing for the past two weeks. Just keep going and don't look back. 

Over a hundred miles to the south, in the Soho district of London, Prof. Severus Snape double checked the address to a building and walked inside. He cursed when he saw that there was no lift and the office he was heading to was on the top floor. He found the stairwell and began to climb. 

Snape knocked on the door to room 505, and heard a muffled "Come in." 

"Are you Viola Iolanthe? "He asked of the gingery blond witch wearing dark glasses and sitting behind a beat up desk. The room was small and depressingly tatty. 

"Yes, indeed. And you are Professor Snape? Mad-eye Moody owled me this morning and asked me to wait for you this evening. Forgive me if I don't stand up and shake hands. Please have a seat, err, no the one to the left. My associate, Quinn, sits in the right one." 

Snape took his place and steepled his fingers. The witch stared at him intently and he felt his nervousness turn into irritation. After a few minutes of her studying him, she finally cleared her throat. 

"So, you need me to track someone." 

"Yes." Another long pause. 

"Would you care to elaborate on that?" She asked. 

"You said that Moody contacted you." 

"Yes, but he gave me no details. You know, I have a reputation for discretion, but not mind reading." 

Snape removed a wizard's photograph from his robes. "Hermione Granger. She's a student at Hogwarts, muggle-born and top of her class. She ran away from school about two weeks ago. We need to find her and quickly. But discretion above all is needed." 

Iolanthe leaned forward and took the photograph, not bothering to look at it but holding it up to the empty chair next to him. She stared at the empty chair for a few minutes. She then sat back down and examined the photograph. 

"Right. You're in luck. It's a good quality picture and she has a very strong aura. This will work. I will be able to locate her. But I'm curious, is there a reason why you can't use normal magics to find this young witch? My services don't come cheap." 

Snape shifted uncomfortably in his chair. His voice would have been unrecognizable to most of his students. Rather than the satiny smoothness of his teaching voice, it was more a croak. "Miss Granger borrowed a charm from Prof. Flitwick, our charms professor, before she left. It was a new charm he'd invented, one that creates a magic blackout around the wearer. We've spent weeks trying to find her, but it works too well. She's impossible to find through magical means." 

"And you can't tell the Ministry of Magic because she isn't allowed to use magical items, even passive ones, outside of Hogwarts. Right? She could be in a great deal of trouble." 

"She's already in big trouble. Her NEWTs are in less than ten days and though there is no doubt that she could pass them in her sleep, without the test results she will lose her preplacement at Cambridge. On top of that," Snape's voice dropped even lower, "there are certain people who would surely do her an injury if they found her first." 

"How positively melodramatic, Professor." Iolanthe began to wonder what Moody had against her. "So you are saying her life is in peril from person or persons unknown? And I take it she's rather high-strung and immature to be callously throwing away a future education at Cambridge like that?" Judging from her aura, Iolanthe already knew Granger was anything but, however, this Snape person was incredibly close-mouthed for someone claiming to want help. 

Snape further surprised Iolanthe by putting his hands over his face. He then passed his shaking hands through his long hair. "No, though I've called her a silly girl, over and over. She's usually very level headed. It's my fault she has left. Please, I'll pay anything, just find her and get her back before it's too late." 

"Your fault? What did you do to her?" 

"I really don't wish to go into that." He was almost hissing at her. "It's unnecessary information. Just find her and I'll go speak to her." 

"Professor Snape, if she ran away because of you, I'm left to think rather nasty thoughts about your relationship with her. Maybe it would be best if you leave. For all I know you want to find her in order to harm her further." 

"No, that's not true. I'd never harm her. How dare you presume to judge me." 

"I'm getting a very bad feeling about all of this. I expect Moody filled you in on how my gift or affliction works. I've been visually impaired since the age of eight when my ability to read auras overwhelmed and destroyed part of my optic nerve. It's complicated but it has to do with my being one-eighth fairy. I see things in the fairy world very clearly and somehow peoples' auras fall into that category. As a result, I can't see what people like you see around them. I couldn't tell you what color clothing you are wearing or even describe what you look like other than you are tall and thin. I haven't seen a human face in 20 years. But I can tell when you are lying or even holding back an important truth. So don't pee in my wellies and tell me it's raining. It just won't do, you know? 

"My fee is 100 Galleons a day plus expenses. But because you've already managed to royally piss me off, I'm doing you the honor of upping the price to 200 Galleons per diem, two days payable in advance. But I will only give you my services if you describe for me now, in complete detail, what went on. Are we understood, sir?" 

"You know, Lupin told me that you would insist…" 

"You spoke to Remus? How is he? What did he say about me?" Iolanthe suddenly stared at the empty seat again. Quietly, she said, "Stuff a sock in it." Snape leaned forward and waved a hand in front of her face. 

"Since I can see auras, I can also see your hand as a swirl of colors being shoved into my face. Kindly remove it." 

"In spite of both Moody's and Lupin's high regard, you are insane. Why do you keep looking at that chair?" 

She smiled, "I told you my associate Quinn sits there. Quinn, introduce yourself." 

Suddenly there was an apparition of an enormous pure white stoat. He lumbered up from his chair and stood towering over the seated professor. He was at least as tall as Snape, perhaps taller. He had huge beady black eyes and when he opened his mouth he displayed two rows of very sharp white teeth. Snape wasn't sure which was more disconcerting; the fact that he was wearing tweeds complete with a matching cap and a bow tie around his huge neck or that when he spoke it was with a Welsh lilt. 

"And a good evening to you Professor. I've been telling Viola here what an ugly mug you've got, but she never really cares about appearances, don't you know? She's being much nicer to you than to most of the lying, cheating bastards we get in here. On top of that, you stink of the dark arts. What was on your arm? I can still smell it. I suggest you do yourself a favor and stop wasting our time." And with one more display of his teeth, he winked out again. 

"Gods, that was sitting next to me the whole time," muttered Snape as he removed a handkerchief and started to pat his face. 

"You'd better watch yourself, he's still there. And he's not a **that**, he's a pooka. It just wears him out to have to show himself to regular folk, so he doesn't usually bother. So now that you've met, are you prepared to tell me what went on?" 

*** 

AN: Well that's it for the first chapter. It's my first SS/HG piece.  Please do R&R. 


	2. What They Saw

Yes, it is still all Rowling's work, except for what you don't recognize.  
  
I want to thank the people who have left reviews and encouragement: Arysta, Ezmerelda, Senya, Risa, Carol and esp. Ramos who has beta read the following chapter for me.  
  
Chapter Two  
  
What They Saw  
  
Prof. Snape fascinated Iolanthe. He had worn a dark mark (the shadow of it was still there in his aura) yet it had never reached into him to corrupt him as it did others. Somehow he had been mortified, purified, even rarified: put through the grinder of life and spit out the other side. It was on occasions like this that Iolanthe truly appreciated her ability to read auras, and, in certain cases, even see a human soul. However, she still relied on Quinn to give her visual reference points. She found that it helped anchor her during an investigation. When she received the picture of Hermione, she showed it to Quinn first.  
  
"Well, she's a looker, alright," said Quinn. "Schoolgirl clothes don't hide her figure at all. Say, you remember that Dietrich DVD we played last week? Blue Angel? That's who this professor reminds me of, the old duffer in the film."  
  
Iolanthe took back the picture and examined the girl's aura. She was no Lola; in fact, she was one of the more powerful witches she had ever seen. This was a very interesting evening, indeed.  
  
Then Iolanthe let her senses roam. Slightly to the left of her, that would be North, and that's where the girl was. There would be no problem tracking her. Iolanthe gave Snape the good news. She watched as a turquoise and gold bubble of sheer joy swirled over Snape's heart.  
  
"Oh does he ever love her, though it seems to be rather platonic," thought Iolanthe. "It's amazing how he can keep all that feeling out of his voice. I bet he has a perfect poker face, too. I'll have to ask Quinn later."  
  
After Quinn had appeared to Snape, Iolanthe decided some drastic action needed to be taken if they were not to be there all night. She retrieved a pensieve from her desk drawer and placed it in front of him on her desk.  
  
"Of course, you know what this is."  
  
"We don't need that. I did nothing wrong."  
  
"I didn't say you did. We keep it around for some of our clients who may find it a bit difficult remembering or expressing what they saw. It can be a great time saver. And of course, we erase the contents immediately after use. There is no way it could fall into the wrong hands. It would spare you having to talk about this distressing issue."  
  
Snape opened his mouth and then closed it. Slowly he put his wand to his head and removed the first few strands. It didn't take long before he signaled he was done. He stood up and walked over to look out the grime encrusted window.  
  
"Quinn, you do the honors first."  
  
Because Snape couldn't hear Quinn's report, the room seemed silent for a long time. Quinn entered the memory and then recounted what he saw to Iolanthe.  
  
"They were in a laboratory in a basement or dungeon. The professor was watching the girl chopping something. He snuck up behind her and she startled and cut herself. He took her hand and put her finger in his mouth. Not very sanitary, if you ask me. She put her other hand on his face. Then he let go off her finger in order to kiss the palm of her hand. They stood like that for a while, simply ogling each other. He then snapped out it and gets this murderous look. He turned puce and was yelling at her about how she might of died from being so careless. She screamed right back at him that she wouldn't have cut herself if she hadn't snuck up on her. Quite a row they had! Interesting, she then says that she loves him, calls him a few choice names, and runs out the room. And Old Stoneyface here, the look on his mug was priceless, totally priceless. After she runs from the room, he then threw everything to the floor. I'm not sure but I think there were tears in his eyes. Well, he sure fooled me; I felt for certain that he must have done something pretty bad to her. It was just a tempest in a teapot."  
  
"Thank you, Quinn. My turn." Iolanthe reached out her hand and felt for the bowl. She tapped on it with her wand and the story played itself again for her.  
  
She made mental notes as she watched. "When it starts they are both content. They are covered with warm rosy glows -- rosy pink, not passionate red or purple. At this point it would be safe to say that while they are not intimately involved with each other, they do enjoy working together. Snape becomes alarmed about something and quickly comes up behind her. She startles when she feels his breath on her neck. Then she's in pain from the cut. Snape panics and grabs her hand. But then the attempt to help her goes astray and leads to some mild erotic feelings, all lilacs and lavenders. Ah, she feels it too and she touches his face. Their hearts are both racing and their breathing is shallow and. Oh Gods! Silvery iridescent colors collects above him and then her, stretching out, and reaching out to each other. The two souls meet, and where they first touch, little golden sparks flare. After they've totally merged, it explodes and breaks down into droplets that then reenter their respective owners."  
  
Iolanthe swallowed and tried to contain her excitement. She doubted that should she live to 200 she would ever witness such a thing again. And she had promised to destroy the pensieve recollection? She wanted to show Snape, but he'd only see what Quinn saw. And would he believe her if she told him what she saw? Not very likely.  
  
The memory continued to play out until Snape was left alone. Iolanthe tapped the pensieve again and the memory was destroyed.  
  
She wiped a tear from her eye and turned to Snape. "So you had a lover's spat?"  
  
"Don't say that," snapped Snape. "I never touched her that way. She's my student."  
  
"Big on denial, ain't he?" muttered Quinn.  
  
"Can you explain why you simply didn't bandage her wound?"  
  
Snape cleared his throat. "She was assisting me in preparing an extremely dangerous substance for use in classes. I noticed that she had removed one of her gloves. I came up to tell her to put on her glove back on and she cut herself. Satan's Weed is only poisonous when in the bloodstream; the enzymes found in saliva neutralize the toxin."  
  
"Ah, so maybe he could have spit on her finger instead?" quipped Quinn.  
  
In an ice-tinged voice, Snape murmured to himself. "Silly, silly girl. She was just a child carried away by the moment."  
  
Snape shot her a look filled with malice. "If that's all?" He threw a heavy bag of coins on her desk and turned to leave.  
  
"Yes, I do have a further question. You said that she might be in danger?"  
  
Snape stared at her and his left eye began to twitch. "Miss Granger is a friend of Harry Potter."  
  
"Ooh. I wondered why her name seemed familiar. I don't get out much, but there was quite a bit of to do around the destruction of He-who, well, Voldemort."  
  
"Not all of the Death Eaters were captured. I can think of several individuals still at large who would kill her without a moment's hesitation simply to get back at Potter."  
  
"Well, lucky for her then that Flitwick's charm works so well. Don't worry Professor, we'll find her and get her back. I should have my report for you by day after tomorrow. Here's my address, you can pick me up at 7. Flowers are optional." She winked.  
  
"You make it sound like a date." He growled.  
  
"Well, suit yourself. I take it you don't get out much either."  
  
Snape almost flew out the room. Viola counted to ten and then collapsed in her chair in a fit of laughter.  
  
"Here now, Vi, you're not serious about the date stuff?"  
  
"Oh, no. I just couldn't resist giving him a good tweak. Oh Gods, what a wondrous night. I've seen the most amazing thing. You only read about it in folklore and legend, but it's real. And I saw it. I just wish someone else had the same ability."  
  
"Why? There are many aura readers. What's so special?"  
  
"It was their souls, Quinn. Most aura readers can't see them except for tiny glimpses here and there."  
  
"So what did they, umm, their souls do?"  
  
"They joined, and then they consummated. Oh it was glorious. Quinn, I need a double latte frappe to celebrate. This was just too rich."  
  
"I think you need to settle down, missy. Maybe a little stroll down to the Silver Fife Pub instead?"  
  
"No, no, the game's afoot."  
  
"As said by Sherlock Holmes. Best played by Basil Rathbone, I might add," trumpeted Quinn.  
  
"I need the floo powder, thank goodness we are still hooked up. Can you find where we put the stuff?"  
  
"What, you can reach the Granger girl by floo now?"  
  
"Oh, no. But we don't have to go to her. She's coming to us. I can feel her presence growing stronger by the minute. At this rate, I think she should be in London in less than two hours. We'll give her some time to settle in and then we will drop by for a little visit, hopefully with an old acquaintance of hers. Oh, she's a lucky girl, as lucky as a girl can get. And me, oh I think this night can only get better!"  
  
"Who are you visiting this time of night by floo?"  
  
"Be patient and you shall see," Iolanthe grinned.  
  
AN: Please read and review. There is more to come. 


	3. Tea with Hermione

Chapter 3 - Tea with Hermione

A/N: A big, big thanks to my beta reader Ramos who has helped me so much!

Many thanks to everyone who reviewed -- it really helps me keep going to know that you are out there!

It's all Rowling's, except what you don't recognize.

&&&

Hermione dropped her rucksack on her friend's couch and walked through the tiny apartment. Now would be the time to finally let go and cry her eyes out. She'd called her friend Jeanine from the bus station, only to be asked to pick up a spare set of keys to the flat from the crazy cat lady across the hall and let herself in. Jeanine's boyfriend had wanted her to spend the night at his place, depriving Hermione of her confidant. Then again, if she couldn't explain to wizards and witches what had happened, how would she explain it to a muggle friend? 

As much as she needed to cry, she felt too emotionally drained to do anything but sit on the bed and stare at the cracked and peeling walls while thinking of all the reasons why she should just head back to Hogwarts; Harry, Ron, Ginny, Hagrid, and Crookshanks. The N.E.W.T.s.

And then she thought of Snape, or rather the two Snapes. One man was the monster of her childhood and the other man - she didn't want to think about it. She could never go back, not the way she felt: it would show too clearly to the world.

Whatever had gone on that evening, and she still didn't understand it, had divided her completely. Her emotions were split so evenly between hatred of the man who had burdened her and compassion for the poor bastard that her head would spin whenever she thought about him. She could not conceive of being in the same room with him or even under the same roof. Because if she could, she would run to him, and then he'd only shout at her, "Silly girl, it's your imagination." And then she'd die. Well, she might kill him first. She very well couldn't sit the N.E.W.T.s in this condition, so it wasn't even worth thinking about. Damn. She hadn't asked for this: to be torn apart and her life destroyed by the events of one evening. It wasn't fair.

She fell asleep while planning the best way to sneak into Gringotts without being spotted by anyone she knew.

She was dreaming that Snape was the owner of a coffee shop and she had just dropped a whole tray full of dishes. She had already burnt the toast and slopped hot tea on a customer's lap. He was yelling at her and then she awoke. She had heard something. She was sure that someone was in the flat with her. Looking out of the bedroom, she noticed that the light was on in the kitchen and she felt a chill run down her spine. She was sure she'd turned it off. Had Jeanine changed her mind? She got up and slowly snuck down the hallway to the kitchen. There she saw a tall, funny looking witch wearing dark glasses standing at the kitchen table. She was sipping coffee and had a milk foam mustache on her top lip.

"Ah, you're up, Hermione. Excellent. Care for an herbal tea?" She motioned to a take-out cup on the table.

"And who might you be?" Hermione demanded.

"Just think of me as your fairy godmother. I'm here to grant you three wishes."

"Come on, really. Who sent you? How did you find me?"

"Sorry, I'm not the answer lady, just the wish fulfillment fairy. Take it or leave it."

"How can I trust you?"

"Ah, I knew that one was coming." She put two fingers in her mouth and whistled. And in walked….

"Professor Lupin?"

"Hello Hermione. It's good to see you."

"I'm sure you remember your old Defense Against the Dark Arts professor," said Iolanthe with a smug look. 

Hermione hugged him and burst into tears. She felt so grateful to have someone there from her old life. She'd never been so lonely as she was in the past few weeks. In the safety of his arms, she could finally let go.

"There, there old girl. Things will be fine now. We'll sort it all out together," Lupin gently told her.

"That's right. I really do believe you can write your own ticket on this one," purred Iolanthe.

Hermione sniffed and blew her nose into the handkerchief gallantly provided by Lupin. "You think so? I can't go back there. I can't face all those people after what happened."

"The blighter, he'll pay for this."

"What?"

"Umm. Remus, you've jumped to a wrong conclusion. Nix on the making Snape pay stuff. He didn't do anything."

"Didn't do anything?" Said a suddenly indignant Hermione.

"Well, he saved your life and kissed your palm."

"That's all he did?" Lupin stared. "Well, you've lost me."

"There was a bit more," ventured Iolanthe.

"Do tell." Said Lupin.

"Yes, do tell us," said Hermione who wasn't quite ready yet to trust this witch. They both expectantly stared at Iolanthe.

Nothing like a bit of pressure, thought Iolanthe. She cleared her throat. "Well, first I was contacted in my capacity as an aura reader to locate you. And we used a pensieve and, well, there was a little matter of something I witnessed in it. I don't really know for sure all the ramifications…."

"Well, perhaps I can help you interpret what you saw, Miss Iolanthe?" Lupin said with a twinkle in his eye. 

Great, we're back to last names again, she thought, not realizing that Lupin was teasing her. "Hmmm. It was a soul mating."

"I knew it!" shouted Hermione. "And he was trying to act like nothing happened. But it did. Does that mean there will never be anyone--?"

"That's just legend. No one's ever witnessed that." Lupin cut off Hermione before she could head any further down that slippery slope.

"I just said I did, Mr. Lupin," snorted Iolanthe. She briefly wondered how they had begun rowing and what that actually meant about her current non-relationship with Remus.

"I've known Snape since boyhood." Lupin said feeling more than a bit of discomfort. He remembered how Snape had forced his hand about resigning from Hogwarts, even though he probably would have resigned anyway. Snape was incredibly heavy-handed in his dealings with others. "While I try to be charitable towards him because he has done me a good turn or two, I'm not sure that he even has a soul that anyone could mate with.

"Oh that's unfair, he has a lovely soul," Iolanthe said with some heat.

"That's right. Once I saw his true self." Hermione admitted.

"True self? True self? Why is it always the broody, nasty ones who get all the attention?" Lupin looked disgusted. 

"I don't know, maybe it has something to do with suffering and redemption?" Iolanthe shrugged.

"Oh right, and like I haven't suffered? I just don't go around trying to seduce girls half my age."

"Mr. Lupin, you might take a care to remember that I was barely 23 and you over 30 when we met." Iolanthe finished her coffee in one huge gulp. "Scratch that. This conversation is counterproductive, unprofessional and I insist we get back on topic of how to sort out Ms. Granger's problems in a manner satisfactory to all involved." Iolanthe was pulling rank and it felt damned good.

"Well, of course, Miss Iolanthe. We wish to please." Lupin drawled and he turned to Hermione. "Now dear. What would it take to get your life back on track?"

Hermione blinked. She hadn't really had the luxury of considering what she wanted. She'd been too wrapped up in running away from what she didn't want. "Well. I, I'm not sure. I just know that I can't go back to Hogwarts. I don't want to see him."

"Very sensible, Ms. Granger." Lupin said, trying not to be too self-congratulatory. "But you do want to sit your N.E.W.T.s?"

"Do you think that would be possible, without being at Hogwarts?" Hermione felt a huge weight beginning to lift.

"I think it's feasible. You could sit the exams off-site. I could talk to Dumbledore and see if he'd allow it. I can't really think why he'd object."

"Oh, and we need a safe house as well. It seems, according to Snape, that she could be in danger from the attentions of uncaught Death Eaters."

"That man is so paranoid. He's going to be seeing Death Eaters under his bed for years."

"You don't think it's a problem?" Asked Iolanthe.

"No, but we can ask to be on the safe side."

  
"Good-O. Well, when do you think you can do it? It's rather late."

"Actually, knowing Dumbledore he'll probably meet me at the castle door with a cuppa and scones for a late night snack."

"Well, that's fine then," said Iolanthe.

"Yes," said Lupin.

"Yes," said Iolanthe. There was a pause and Lupin stepped forward, took her face in his hands, and kissed her. Then he was gone.

"Hullo, I think he fancies you."

"Do tell. I really didn't see that one coming. I think I'm in shock. The problem is that he's really good at disapparation, if you take my meaning. Do you think this place has any tea? I could use a Lapsang Oolong right now."

Hermione stopped. Didn't she just finish a drink? "I don't think so, but I could look." Hermione started opening cupboards.

"So tell me Hermione," Iolanthe needed to figure something out. "If you had the choice between being married to Snape or having him naked, covered in treacle and tied over a Brimstone Dragon-Ant mound. Which would you choose?" 

"Neither. I just want to get through my N.E.W.T.s. I don't want to think about him at all. I mean, until that whatever-you-said happened I didn't even like him. Well, I respected him and I thought there were times that he was rather witty. But now, I just feel so horribly confused. You **did** see what happened? I felt it. All of a sudden he wasn't Snape anymore and I wasn't me." Her verbal outpouring suddenly ceased, and she frowned pensively. "Do you think that maybe enough toxin entered my bloodstream that day to cause me to become delusional?"

"Well, I can't guarantee it didn't." Iolanthe felt taken aback not just by the odd intensity of the girl, but something just wasn't making sense. "Your attitude is very sensible, maybe more sensible than mine... But, in the pensieve you said you loved him."

"No, I never said that."

Stranger and stranger. Iolanthe decided to get to safe ground. "Ahem, so what are you planning after your N.E.W.T.s?"

"Hmm. Well, I'm going to have to make-up with my friends. I guess I must have hurt them pretty badly. Oh here, I found some Ty-phoo instant, will that do?"

Iolanthe shuddered. "All right, beggars can't be choosers." 

"But to get back to what we were saying," Hermione continued as she filled the electric kettle. "I want to head up to Cambridge early and just have some time to myself. All my illusions have shattered about who I am and who he is, or was. Suddenly, everything I knew about the nature of reality and magic can't be trusted anymore. Every time I try to think about it, I just feel myself suffocate. I really need to get to the library and do some research on this matter."

"Certainly, if I can be of any help, please contact me via floo, owl or even muggle fax. Here's my card." She brought out from her pocket a pink origami flamingo with writing on it. It came to life, flew around the room once and then landed in Hermione's hand. "Your case is so interesting that I will gladly help you gratis or, well, maybe a meal out and a few drinks as payment." She removed her dark glasses and massaged her red-rimmed eyes. 

Hermione handed her a mug, the Ty-phoo tea and a spoon. She then decided to be a sticky beak and poke her nose in. "What about you and Remus?"

Iolanthe sighed. "Do you really want to hear this?" Hermione nodded. "For the last twelve years, there was no me and Remus. I ran into him last week and rockets went off, just like old times. Then I don't hear from him again, until tonight when I find out he gave me a job reference for your case. And just now, I have no idea what went on. It's embarrassing."

"I assume you know about his… condition?"

"Yes, though he sounds healthier than he used to." Iolanthe found and unplugged the whistling kettle and quietly made her tea.

"Until not long ago, I didn't believe aura readers were for real. Relationships must be sort of awkward for readers."

"You're right. Unless two readers wind up with each other, but unfortunately there's a dearth of male readers. I always figured that I'd eventually get myself a cat, or maybe a half dozen cats. And then Quinn showed up."

"Oooh. Who's Quinn?"

"Don't get excited. We're just friends and business partners. But I do divide my life into pre-Quinn and post-Quinn."

"Do you think Prof. Lupin is jealous?"

"I wouldn't know. To be honest, I can't read through his curse. You tell me, is it irony or cause and effect? The two people I'm closest too are also the ones I can't read."

"Hmm. I wonder if…"

Hermione was interrupted by the reappearance of Lupin, carrying a tin of Lapsang Oolong and a whole package of Penguin Bars. "A present, ladies, from Dumbledore. He was delighted to see me and it's all set."

"That was quick," said Iolanthe.

"It was pretty obvious he was expecting me. He gave me this port key," he waved a lemon sherbet fountain wrapper, "for a safe cottage in Hogsmeade -- three bedrooms complete with a house elf. Oh, Hermione, you don't still have a problem with H.E.'s, do you?"

She rolled her eyes. "When am I ever going to live it down?"

"So are you ready? The port key goes in less than 5 minutes."

"Oh, I've got to leave a note for Jeanine." Hermione went into the bedroom and put back the few items she had begun to unpack. She then started rummaging in a desk drawer for a biro and paper.

"You're coming with us?" Remus moved closer to Iolanthe.

"No. I think you can take it from here, but keep a good eye on her." She kept her voice low. "Something's not adding up about all this. I need to think. You have your advance so go ahead and earn it; I'm going home. I want to sleep in my own bed tonight."

"Fine," said Lupin mildly. "Oh, and Dumbledore said he'd send someone by to chaperone at the cottage." He simply stood next to her, not touching, in an awkward silence. Iolanthe studiously ignored him. 

A few minutes later Hermione and Lupin said their good-byes and she was alone.

Well, he handled that remarkably well, thought Iolanthe as she apparated home. Quinn was still up watching a Fred and Ginger DVD. Since pookas don't need to sleep, Quinn was the Golden Oldies DVD Club's best customer.

"How'd it go?" asked Quinn.

"Fine, like clockwork," sighed Iolanthe. "I'm tired and heading to bed. Damn, I forgot the tin of tea. Well, try not to eat all the Penguin bars, save me a couple."

"Right you are. Sweet dreams, Viola."

"Ta, Quinn." She kissed him on the top of his large, white, furry head and went to her bedroom. Within minutes she was sound asleep.

&&&

Please do read and review.


	4. The Continuation Of A Very Long Evening ...

Chapter 4 - The Continuation Of A Very Long Evening And Night

A/N:  It's all Rowling's, except what you don't recognize.

My heartfelt thanks to my beta Ramos for her patient and thought-provoking help.

Remus Lupin and Hermione Granger found themselves in a tiny living room.  It had a low ceiling, worn rug and dilapidated but cozy-looking couch.  Lupin took out his wand and made a few improvements to the décor, including a bar complete with brandy and brandy glasses.

A huge ginger cat leaped out and landed on Hermione's shoulders.  "Crookshanks!"  She buried her face into his fur.  "I've missed you so much."  She was rewarded with a loud purr.

Suddenly Dobby the house elf was there as well.  "Professor Lupin and Miss Granger.  Dobby is honored to be seeing to your needs."

"It's good to see you, Dobby.  I don't know if we will need anything.  Hermione?"

"Oh, yes.  I need my clothing, some books, oh, and most importantly -- parchment and quills."

"Dobby is pleased to tell you that everything you have requested is already upstairs and waiting."

Hermione practically squealed with pleasure and went running up the stairs.

"Hermione?"

"Yes, Professor?"

"Will you be alright now?  And do call me Remus."

Hermione ran back down the stairs gave Lupin a fierce hug and said, "Everything's going to be fine now.  I'm sure of it."  She scurried back up, finding her room right at the top of the stairs.

Hermione sat at her desk and thoughtfully played with her quill.  She was happy, but her nerves were wired so tightly she thought she'd explode.  She took a parchment and penned a note to Harry.  It came out badly.  She tried again.  Better, but still.  And then finally:

"Dear Harry,

I'm really, really sorry about putting you through all this worry.  I had a bad case of nerves from studying too much.  I'm fine now and shall see you after graduation.  Maybe we can all stay at The Burrow together?

Love,

Hermione"

It was short, it was sweet and it was a complete lie, but she'd hoped it would be enough to gain his forgiveness.  She wrote the same in slightly different variations to Ron, Ginny, Hagrid and her parents.  She then felt a bit better in spite of the falsehoods.  Then she brought her herself back to the real need that had continued to well up in her and nudge her throughout the past weeks.  What she had come to think of as 'The Event' screamed out to be recorded.  She began to write and even after ten feet of parchment it was still was not complete.  Around 3 AM, she finally went to bed.  For the first time in a fortnight, she finally relaxed.  She'd captured as much as she could remember about the experience.  Now, maybe it would finally leave her alone and she could get on with things.  She felt sad because there was so much she had forgotten, but this was a good as it could get.

Hermione slipped out of her clothes and into her nightgown.  She fell asleep with a sigh and Crookshanks at her back.

&&&

 After Hermione went upstairs, Lupin went to the bar and poured himself a generous glass of brandy.  With a casual flick of his wand, the fire was lit.  He had forgotten how cold Hogsmeade was compared to the southern part of England where he'd been living.

Staring into the flames, he thought about Viola.  The wizarding world was a small place and yet he hadn't seen her in over twelve years.  Then last week there she was in Diagon Alley, sitting by herself at Fortescue's eating a large coffee and caramel knickerbocker glory.  She'd looked up at him and smiled.  And he was lost.  He sat down, asked how she was, and it was as if the intervening years had never happened.  She said that she was waiting for her friend, Quinn.  But after finishing her frozen confection, she told him that maybe he wasn't going to show up after all.

Lupin had offered to walk her wherever she needed to go.  He knew that she didn't get around too well in London, mostly because she refused to use a cane.  The locator and warding spells she relied upon were totally inadequate to the task of getting around a large city.  Lupin feared that one day a lorry'd hit her as she confidently jaywalked across the street.  

She said that she didn't have anywhere in particular to go and so they walked.  They spent most of their time in Hyde Park.  She loved being where there were things she could see such as flowers, grass and trees.    Just like old times, she adored watching the energies of growing things.  She had told him that indeed different flowers had different personalities all of their own.  They walked along the Thames, listening to the sounds of the river.  He took her to a sidewalk bistro for dinner.  They had talked and walked for hours.  He offered to walk her home and discovered that she was still in her old flat.  He took her upstairs.  And they made love.  Just like that, just like old times.

That day, he realized that he still loved her and had never stopped loving her.  There had been a few women along the way, but considering that werewolves were shunned in general and he'd had to stay on the move so much, he never really had the chance to fall in love with anyone else.  Besides, Viola was different.  There, that was an understatement.  Call her unique, bizarre, brilliant, whatever; there was no one else that could possibly take her place.  He'd been an idiot for leaving her.  

In addition, she was also the only woman who could witness his transformation and live.  James and Sirius in their animagus forms had often helped him during his moon cycles.  Their presence calmed him and made his less violent.  But with Viola, he was actually tame and docile while in his cursed form.

And he had thrown it all away out of pride, hurt pride from her family's attitude toward him.  He was older now, wiser and humble.  He'd take on a room full of dementors if she'd only agree to be with him.

Lupin came to his feet when he heard a knock on the door.  He took out his wand.  "Who's there?"

"Hooch."

"And Mr. Hooch."

Lupin threw open the door.

"Sirius?  Sirius, what are you doing here?"

Hooch and Black came in arm in arm.  

"Well, Remus old friend.  You'll be the first to know.  My pardon has come through and it's official - I'm a free man." Black then kissed Hooch.  "And you can be the first to congratulate us, we're getting married."

Hooch blushed.

"Isn't she beautiful?"

"Yes, she is." Lupin leaned over and gave her a peck on the cheek.  "There for good luck.  Come over and sit on the couch.  Brandy anyone?"

"No thanks, Lupin."  Hooch's voice was as gruff as ever.  "We've probably had a bit too much all ready, especially since we are doing this favor for the Headmaster."

Lupin thought that Hooch might actually be a stabilizing influence on his canine friend.  She certainly did have the air of a dog trainer about her.  Then again, he should talk; Viola had the same talent for taming wild lupins.

"So, Lupin, Dumbledore told me that you managed to capture Snape's little runaway."  Hooch leaned forward, her golden eyes bright with speculation.

"Well, no.  It was the work of an associate of mine, a Miss Iolanthe."

Black groaned.  "Not her again.  Didn't she disappear on you last week?  Take my word on it -- she's bad news.  I told Rolanda about what happened and she knows something about that family."

"Right.  A cousin of mine had some business dealings with an Iolanthe.  Things didn't go well and he wound up in the middle of a maze, which took him three weeks to get out of.  Three weeks of living off of wobbleberries and badbug nuts and drinking out of pitcher plants.  Eeeew.  When he got out, he complained to the Ministry of Magic and they said that they had no jurisdiction over those with fairy blood and to just steer clear in future.  He said the Iolanthe clan aren't just above the law, they're invisible to it."

"Yes.  Well, I've met the family and I wouldn't argue that."  Lupin was beginning to feel the old grievance come back.  "A greater bunch of scoundrels and snobs, I've never met.  But Viola's different; she's done contract work for the ministry for years.  She's a straight arrow."

"Well, she wasn't that straight last week.  What did you tell me?  You spent five days trying to break all the confusion spells laid over her home and office.  Owls were getting lost for days.  You found yourself flooing to Outer Mongolia.  And some chappy kept answering the mugglephone and threatening to break your neck."  Black looked for confirmation.

"Sirius, I have a theory about that. I don't think it was Viola's doing.  Anyway, it won't happen again.  I put a very strong trace charm on her.   I don't think the other spells will be able to affect it."

"Your little charm up against fairy magic?  I wouldn't take any bets," snorted Black.

"It's an old and very strong one.  I'd read about it in a resource book on combating fairy magics and so far it's holding up.  I placed it on her when we were kissing."

"Oh, kissing were you?  That reminds me."  Hooch's eyes sparkled.  She leaned over and Black kissed her, and kissed her, and kissed her and….

"Oh, get a room!" Lupin said with some annoyance. "Okay, both of you take it upstairs and use a silencing spell.  We don't want Ms. Granger getting a course in sex ed. 1001."

"Hmm.  From what the boys at Slytherin are saying, she already has from Snape."  Hooch said cattily.

"Rolanda Hooch, I'm sure you know better than to believe anything those boys are saying."

"Hmmm.  Frankly, knowing Severus as I do, yes, I doubt anything happened.  But he had been flapping around making a spectacle of himself over her disappearance.  And where there's smoke…."

"Ye Gods, Rolanda.  You're going to wither my cock for the rest of the night, talking about Snape and sex in the same breath."  Black looked anything but withered.  "Let's go upstairs now before I'm totally put off."

They all said their goodnights and Lupin returned to silent contemplation of the fire.  At the sound of springs creaking, he ran up the stairs and knocked on their door.  "Silencing spell, you lovesick kneazles."

Things went quiet and Lupin decided to turn in. 

&&&

"What do you mean, you won't tell me where she is?  I helped find her.  You put me under Veratiserum to prove to McGonagall there was nothing going on.  And you won't let me talk to her?  This is absurd."  Snape was beside himself with fury.

"Sorry, Severus.  But those are the terms of her return.  She wants nothing to do with you.  I suppose all those years of your yelling at the students have come back to bite you on the backside."  Dumbledore tried to look compassionate, but the twinkling eyes betrayed his amusement.  "Maybe you could owl her and apologize after her NEWTs."

"Apologize?  I did nothing but saved her miserable life.  And look what she's done to me.  My reputation is in ruins!"  Snape thundered.

Dumbledore lost it with a huge guffaw.  "Oh come now!  You sound like some wronged virgin in a melodrama.  Surely it can't be that bad?"

"You most certainly know it is.  I'm now considered some sort of Don Juan by the entire house of Slytherin.  I'm being propositioned by Ravenclaw seventh years, male and female.  Everyone has chosen to put Miss Granger's bunking it into the worst possible light.  And it is so unfair.  Professor Flitwick was the last to see her before she left and yet no one's casting aspersions on his character."  Severus opened a fresh bottle of Old Ogden's and with shaking hands poured a large tumbler full.

"Well, do not let me keep you from your celebrations.  We are all most relieved that Miss Granger has come to no harm and will indeed be able to sit her exams."  Dumbledore clapped Snape on the shoulder and left.

Snape drank for another hour before crawling into bed half dressed.  Lying there, Snape reviewed how his life had turned into this joke of silent desperation.  He knew the exact day, hour and minute of when his world went careening out of control:

It was **not** during the seven-day battle with Voldemort last March.  Nor was it when Voldemort fell and Snape was captured and tortured for 3 days by a ranting, half-mad Lucius Malfoy.  It wasn't even when he underwent the ignominy of being rescued by Sirius Black in his animagus form.  It wasn't when the papers kept insisting it was Potter alone who had saved the day instead of a group effort.  Nor when Snape received the Order of Merlin third class (after twenty years of behind the scenes effort) only because Potter had threatened to boycott the ceremony if Snape wasn't given at least some sort of acknowledgement.

No, the moment when all hell broke loose in Snape's universe was at the first full staff meeting after Voldemort's fall.  The meeting had not even opened when Madame Hooch stood up and said,

"All right, I have an announcement before we get started.  I've packed my bags and I'm moving out of the castle, today.  I'm going to live at Rosemerta's.  I'll still be the Quidditch mistress, but I'm not getting any younger and I want a sex life."

There was dead silence in the staff room.  And then Hagrid cleared his throat.  All eyes turned towards him.

"Well, er yup, I have a little announcement of my own.  I've found a goblin willing to take care of me animals while I head over ter Paris next week.  It seems things are going well between Olympe and me and if it all continues, well I just might not be back.  Yer all of course invited to the weddin'."

Hagrid sat down and, oddly enough, it was at that point that Madam Trelawney started to cry.

Then Minerva stood and spoke.

"Actually, I was going to save this for later, but as you know Albus is still recuperating from the battle and well, -- I'm sick and tired of never getting a vacation with him.  It's been fifty years since we've been able to take a holiday together so I've booked a wizard's world cruise leaving end of August.  It's a slow boat to China and we will be out of reach for at least three years.  Don't even try to find us because Prof. Flitwick has kindly created a charm that will make us untraceable.  Thank you."

Snape was getting a very sick feeling in the pit of his stomach.  But still the exodus did not end.  Trelawney's sobs were escalating to wails.  Madam Pomfrey had decided to resume work as a midwife and was heading to Zanzibar as a volunteer.  Prof. Vector announced an early retirement.  And then, from the back of the room, Filch coughed twice and came up.  Red faced, he stopped in front of Prof. Sprout's chair and got down on one knee.  He removed a small box from his threadbare jacket.

"I'd like everyone to bear witness to this now.  My little mourning lily, my sproutikins, it's been thirty years of you and me together, thirty wonderful years.  I never offered to marry you because I'm only a squib, but if you'll have me."  Here he stopped because his voice caught.  "I'd be the luckiest man on this planet." 

"Oh Argus," sobbed Sprout.  "Yes, my dear, dear man, you were worth the wait."  And they embraced in one of the longest open-mouthed kisses Hogwarts had ever seen.

That was the day of Snape's damnation.  And, if he had lost control of himself and kissed the palm of Hermione's hand, well, he felt it was quite justified, because since that day, that one horrid, horrid day, Snape had not had one moment of peace in his dungeon.  There were job searches to be done for not one, but five faculty positions.  Snape had helped Minerva until Dumbledore was back on his feet; however, Snape would be acting Headmaster in the next year while someone else held down his potions job.  And he had to find a replacement for both the Gryffindor and Slytherin's heads of house as well.  Of course, there was the replacement of the medi-witch.  That was seven placements he had to fill, (no -- eight he kept forgetting the DADA replacement needed), while attempting to maintain some sanity and control over his own classes filled with over-exuberant students who believed that somehow the death of Voldemort was an reason to totally skive off.  He was sleeping a scant four hours a night.  After the Granger girl ran away, he found that his hands kept shaking.  

Snape was tempted for a moment to have a physical release of his tension before sleep.  But then he thought, why bother? And he fell into an uneasy doze.

A/N:  Please R&R.

A big thank you to my reviewers: Giova, Witch Lisa, Sara, DarkFire, Evanescence, Ezmerelda, Rosemerta, c_fleurbleue, Elysia, Hecate Silvermoon, Risi, Axial, Semicharmed, Azure, Free Bird.  I really appreciate your comments and support!

I'm sorry if this took a while to update.  I have another WIP that I've also been working on.


	5. A Girl And Her Pooka

Chapter 5 - A Girl and Her Pooka

A/N:  It all belongs to Rowling, except what you don't recognize.

A big, big hug and thank you for my beta, Ramos.

"Well, you should at least put on some eyeliner, it will make your eyes seems larger."

"No one sees my eyes, I wear dark glasses.  It cuts down on the pain."

"Well, still a bit of make-up couldn't hurt you.  It might even encourage that werewolf creature.  Oh, and don't forget this word, rhinoplasty, it's something the Muggles have.  It could help with your nose."

"There's nothing wrong with my nose.  It's retrousse.  Quinn says it's lovely, just like Judy Garland's."

"Of course, it's lovely.  If you are a skiing fanatic..."

Viola squashed her urge to scream.  It wasn't that she had anything against talking mirrors in general…

"Oh and one more thing dear…  Judy Garland came to a rather sticky end."

There was the sound of shattering glass and a cut-off scream.  Iolanthe came out of the bathroom and walked into the kitchen.

"Oy, Quinn.  Could you add getting a new mirror to your shopping list?  I'm heading back to bed."

Quinn put down his copy of the London Times.  "Viola, aren't you heading into the office?"

"No, I just said I'm going back to bed."

"How did it go last night?"

"Smoothly, perfectly, a piece of cake covered in Devon cream.  I…  I need some more sleep.  We were up late, that's all.  Oh and I got an owl from our lovely Prof. Snape.  We are off the case.  It's been given to Mr. Lupin.  It seems he comes a bit cheaper than us.  I'll be in bed with the covers up and over my head.  Don't bother to say good morning, because it's not."  And she stalked into her bedroom.

"Well, that's fine, Viola.  You have a lovely lie in.  I'm just going out for a walk."

&&&

One of the main differences between a magical being and a wizard, thought Quinn, is that wizards can't do much wandless magic and can't Apparate unless they know where they are going.  Nor are they able to Apparate to a safe house.  For Quinn, all he had to do was think, "Lupin", and he was there, watching the man eat his Wheatabix.

He manifested himself hoping to scare the living whatsit out of him.  It didn't work.

"I presume you are Quinn?"   Lupin looked up at the furry creature towering over him.

"Quite right, ready for your Nobel prize, eh?"

"Yes, well, not many 6 foot tall ermines walking about this time of year, are there?"

"No, there are not.  Where is the Granger girl?"

"Upstairs, happy as a hippogriff in flight, swotting away with about 50 books lugged down by house elves from Hogwart's this morning.  And why are you here might I ask?"

"Because I'd promised you, Lupin, that I'd wear your guts for garters if you didn't stay away from Viola, and I intend to make good on my promise right now."

Lupin thought that he had managed to duck the first swipe made at him by the huge paw.  That was until he felt the warm trickle of blood heading down his face and splattering on the floor.  His cereal and chair had also gone flying as well.  

"Right." He backed away, trying to keep an exit behind him.  "Go ahead and kill me, but answer a couple of questions first."  

"You can stall as long as you like, it will be the same in the end."  Quinn continued to advance.

"Were you there in the apartment that time I spent the night?

"No.  I spent part of the night on a bench in Hyde Park and the rest of the night at the Internet Café surfing the web."  His eyes took on a feral gleam.  

"Second question:  how do you manage to go rent DVDs and order drinks in pubs if no one can see you?"

"You see me now."

"As a six foot weasel."

"That's a stoat, young man, -- don't insult me, you're in enough trouble as it is."  He pointed at Lupin with an extended bloodied claw.  It looked quite sharp.

"Stoat, then."

"Like this."  Suddenly the huge stoat shimmered and a very tall, elderly patrician with eyes and hair both the color of steel stood before him.

"Is this better?  So you prefer that I thrash you with human hands rather than shred you to bits with my claws?"

He was removing silver studs from his cuffs and rolling up his sleeves.

"One more question:  do you really think she's better off with you than me?"

"Of course she is, you scoundrel.  You come in and, without so much as a by your leave, take her virtue?"

"Sorry to tell you this, but I didn't take her virtue.  And she wasn't a virgin when we first met twelve years ago, either.  You didn't answer my question; do you think she's better off with you than me?  Do you keep her happy?  Can you even satisfy her?"

With an inarticulate grunt the man threw himself at Lupin and put one hand around his throat in a chokehold.  Amazingly, Lupin managed to keep talking even as he felt his windpipe start to crush.  "Think about it, Quinn.  She never goes out, she just watches old movies with you and orders in from curry houses.  Doesn't she deserve a bit more from her life?"

"You disgust me.  How dare you talk about my…"

"About your what?" he managed to croak.  He could barely see for the blood dripping in his eyes nor hear from the sound of blood rushing in his ears.  

The man stood quite still and a smile edged around his lips.  He released Lupin, who slumped to the floor. "Oh, you are a clever one.  All right, Viola's my great-granddaughter.  I am Lord Iolanthe, and it shall be an immense pleasure to make you suffer for your insolence..."

"You still haven't answered my question, your Lordship.  I'd hate to die with it unanswered and have to haunt you."  Lupin attempted a grin in spite of the searing pain in his throat.

"In my day no man even would think about such matters regarding a woman until the banns were published."

"I fear that you have forgotten which century you are living in.  And from my understanding of Fairies, they don't usually hold themselves to such high moral principles when it comes to mortals.  But that's beside the point.

"Did you know that Viola is actually an excellent cook?  You don't even let her near the kitchen from the looks of it."

"Cooking is for commoners, she's an Iolanthe."

"Quite, but she doesn't go shopping anymore or even to the park."

"She falls in potholes and walks into kiosks.  She's blind, you damnable…" thundered the pooka.

"Right, let's stop with the names. The Viola I knew didn't mind getting a few bruises here or there, she'd just laugh it off.  Her favorite saying when we were together was that if it was organic she could see it and if she could see it she could hex it.  And she was a brilliant hexer, too.

"It took me a little while to figure out this go round what had changed about her, but I understand now, it's you.  You've wrapped her up in cotton wool.  You coddle her and treat her like an infant.  But she doesn't need you: you need her.  She mentioned that your powers are failing and you can't really manifest yourself for long periods.  Look at you now -- you're going weak in the knees.

"She's the only one who can see you in your natural state.  Without her, you might as well head back to that Tor and sleep for another century or so."

Lord Iolanthe sat heavily down at the table.  "I need to protect her from the likes of you." He said quietly.

"Actually, she didn't mention that you were living with her and she doesn't know who you are or I would have cleared it with you?  All right?  I am serious about her.  Back when we first met, I realized that she was pretty special.  She could see I was cursed but treated me like anyone else.  The problem was that I had an attitude about my condition.  I didn't deserve a great girl like her.  I probably still don't, but I lack the pride that I used to.  Look, if it will make you feel better--"  

Lupin cleared his very painful throat.

"Lord Iolanthe, I respectfully request to have your great granddaughter's hand in marriage."

The pooka tried to speak, but it was clear that he was could barely hold his head up.  He started to flicker and then fade out.

"Your lordship?  Quinn?"  

The pooka gasped, "Well, it's about time."  And faded completely from sight.

&&&

Iolanthe didn't show up to her office until half-past twelve.  She carried with her a super-large size container of hot chocolate from the coffee bar below.  She took a sip and wiped a mound of whipped cream off her nose as she looked at Quinn.  "What's wrong?  You look the way I feel."

"Viola, I hope you know that I've always been honest with you, that I've always been upfront."

"Sure, Quinn."  She watched as he brushed back his whiskers with his huge paws.  He rarely did this unless he was really upset.  She got up from her chair and came round the desk to sit next to him.  She took his paws in her hands.

"Almost six years ago, your fairy blood sang out to me and woke me from a deep slumber.  I sought you out and you, in the kindness of your heart, befriended me.  I didn't know who I was.  We didn't know for sure that I just wasn't some animagus stuck mid-shape shifting.  We only knew that your fairy blood had called to me.  We assumed that I was pwca."  Quinn used the ancient Welsh term.  His face twisted in a strange way as he searched for the words to continue.

"But for the past year, I've been having glimpses of who I was.  I'd see parts of my old life.  Things which I believe now were simply too painful to remember earlier.  There was a woman; she looked like you but had darker hair and eyes.  It took a while for me to put a name to the face, but then it came.  She was Isadora and she was my wife."

"Oh Quinn, I'm so happy for you."  Iolanthe leaped up and put her arms around the huge stoat's neck.  "Is she still alive?  Can I help you find her?"

He shook his head.  "She died over a century ago.  But she provided me with four handsome, very intelligent sons.  From what you have told me, your grandfather and his brothers are still in good health.  I haven't been able to tell you all this because it would have meant taking my leave of you.  I want to go see them before I become much weaker.  I want to apologize for walking out on them when their mother died.  I need to ask their forgiveness."

Iolanthe couldn't see for the tears welling up in her eyes.  "You're my great grandfather?  They never talked about you.  I didn't know.  Oh Gods.  Quinn?  Look, I'll come with you.  I mean they are all over the place.  Great-uncle Alexander is in New Zealand.  Unkkie Max is in the States…"

"No, no child.  This is something I'm going to do by myself.  I need to go alone; it's just that I wasn't sure how you'd get by without me.  Promise something now?  Promise me that you'll take on that Lupin fellow as your partner?"

"Quinn-- should I keep calling you Quinn?  I, I don't need Remus.  I did fine before he ever stepped into my life and I don't need him now."

"Maybe not, but I still want you to do this for me.  Please?"

"Well, I'll ask him.  That's the best I can do."

"Good, and now I'll say goodbye.  I have a lot to tell you about your history, but don't worry, I'll send an owl."

"No.  Stay and tell me."  She watched as he slowly shook his head.  "Will I see you again?"

"I won't lie to you.  I've been an exile from the land of fairy for a very long time now.  I don't know what happens to those who lose touch with their magical base.  I guess I will find out.  My promise to you is that if it is at all possible, I will return to you."  

He kissed her gently on the head and turned away.  Tears were welling up in his dark eyes and his mouth twitched in an attempt to keep his composure.  It wouldn't do for her to know just how much this upset him.  Or that he thought it quite unlikely that they would ever see each other again.  For even if this was the last time they were together, it was better than her watching him grow more and more feeble by the day.  No, that wouldn't do at all.

And with that he left the sobbing Iolanthe.  She cried for twenty minutes and then she locked up the office to head back to bed for the rest of the day.

&&&

That evening, as soon as he was relieved from his duties by Black and Hooch, Lupin Apparated to London.  He spent about two minutes looking over his flat and then decided to head over to Viola's.

When she opened the door, the first thing Lupin noticed was that she wasn't wearing her dark glasses and that her brilliant blue eyes were swollen and red.  The second thing he noticed was that she was refusing to look at him.  The last thing he noticed was that she was wearing a maroon and lime green dressing gown, and that some salesgirl somewhere needed to be hunted down and punished for taking advantage of the handicapped.

"Hi Viola."

"Hullo yourself.  I see we are back to first name basis again.  Some timing, eh?  Quinn leaves and you show up."  She shrugged her shoulders and headed to her couch. "I'm listening to some of his favorite films, Easter Parade is on next."  Tears started running down her cheeks.

"Viola, pull yourself together." Said Lupin.

"I can't find my dark glasses.  It's giving me a migraine." She sniffed.

"Do an Accio."

"I've been doing Accios all bleeding day!"

"Wait don't bother," Lupin removed the glasses from where they had been sitting atop her head and put them into her hands.  "They were on your head all along."

"I can't do this. I can't be without him."  
  


Lupin took her in his arms.  "Yes, you can.  I'm here for you, girl."  He kissed her neck and then her cheek, leading to her mouth.  "I'm here for you." His voice became husky.

"No, Remus."  She tried to push him away.  "How do I know you won't go all cold on me again?"

"Because I've already tried and I can't get over you.  Do you need proof?  Marry me."

"Okay, now, the codswallop detector has come on loud and strong, ding, ding, ding.  What went on between my great grandfather and you?"  She stood up and stepped away from him.

"I was going to tell you."  

"How much money?  No, I don't want to know.  Get the hell out of here. Accio wand."

Lupin reflected that this seemed to be his day for fighting members of the Iolanthe clan.  "Expelliarmus," he whispered.  Now holding two wands, he took a step back, avoiding her slap.  He didn't escape the kick to his shin.  "Now, stop that, Viola."  He hopped up and down rubbing the painful spot.

"You come back into my life after twelve years, then you disappear again and now, we're supposed to be partners, business and/or marriage?  I smell a pooka, a very large white pooka.  What? Did he threaten to kill you if you didn't take care of me?  Go to hell."  He grabbed her arms before she could shove him, but she raised her knee, still heading for below the belt, but this time a little higher.  He blocked the shot to his groin with his knee.  "Viola, cut that out.  Will you calm down and listen to me." 

He pushed her up against the living room wall and extended both her arms above her head.  Because they were the same height, they were nose to nose.   "Twelve years ago I fell in love with you.  You know that, you were there.  And yes, I broke things off.  Your family is rich, very powerful and, on top of that -- frankly, a bit intimidating.  I got cold feet and left.  I couldn't even give you a proper explanation.  But you were so strong and independent, I wasn't even sure if you'd notice I'd gone."

Iolanthe started to open her mouth but Lupin placed a small kiss there to quiet her.  "Still my turn.

"When I saw you again a few weeks ago, you had changed.  At first I thought you were sick or something and I just wanted to see if there was anything I could do for you.   But you were healthy, it was just your confidence had gone down the shoots.  You were so much more vulnerable.  I guess I went too fast again, but it felt like those years hadn't happened and I still love you."

She strived again to worm out of his grip so he made it tighter, forcing a little gasp from her.

"Afterwards, I called to see how you were doing and a man answered.  He made it seem that you two were involved in a permanent thing.  He threatened to kill me if I saw you again.  I wasn't sure what to think -- whether you really wanted me or if I was messing up your life again.  I'm sorry if you thought I had dumped you a second time.  He was very good at running interference.  Owls couldn't find you.  I'd try to walk to your office and find myself lost.  But last night **you found me and I was able to put a tracing charm on you when I kissed you.  That way I knew that I could see you again, no matter what tricks your great grandfather tried to play.**

"Anyway, he and I did have it out this morning and I got him to accept that this time I'm serious.  I swear I will never hurt you again and I just want a chance to prove it."  

Lupin's voice lowered to a growl.  "The problem is that you haven't been quite straight with me.  Tell me the truth. You can't read my aura, can you?  If you could, you'd know that I want you for yourself, not money, not out of fear.  And you'd know that I was telling the truth when I say I love you. Right?  Right?  You let me walk away from you all those years ago because you didn't know how I felt.

She made one more attempt to break his grip and then she slumped against him.

"Damn, Remus.  You're right.  You've figured it out.  I can't read you.  Your curse is too strong.  I'm sorry."

He let go of her wrists, but kept her held tightly against him.  He whispered, "Why?  Why couldn't you have been honest with me?"

"How do you tell the man you love that he looks like he just stepped out from a vat of grape jelly?"

"Jelly!"

"It's the curse.  I can't see a thing through it.  Anyway it seemed so minor compared to…"  Iolanthe clapped her hand to her mouth.

"Compared to what?  Viola, answer me now."  Lupin held her at arm's length.   "Come clean now, this is the time for a fresh start.  Trust me."

"I can't.  I'll lose you forever."  Again, she tried to get away from him.  

Lupin pulled her close and kissed her, noticing that her dressing gown had come undone and she was naked underneath. "Believe me, I'm not going anywhere."  He swallowed and tried to smile.  

Fresh tears started to flow and Viola hiccupped.  "I need some water."

Lupin gave her his handkerchief and got some water from the kitchen.

"Now, explain."

"Remus, you know that fairies have acute senses, right?"

"So I have read and you seem to be an example of it, though you are mostly human.   Thank goodness."

"Well, dark magic and curses have a smell."

For a count of five, there was complete silence and then.

"Oh, Gods."  Lupin collapsed into the sofa.  "How bad?  Viola, how bad is it?"

"Well, I can tolerate it…  I mean when we first met, I kept trying different charms and enchantments, but nothing worked so, I got used to it."

"Viola, this is important.  Tell me, now.  How bad?  Oh no, and when we were at your nephew's naming ceremony?"  Lupin blushed to the roots of his grey and brown hair.

"Well, they all tried various enchantments, and a few of them even tried breaking the curse itself.  No one succeeded.  Except Auntie Amaranth, she had you smelling like rotten cabbage for about 12 hours…."

"I remember her.  She was the one with the one magical prosthetic eye?"

"Umm.  That's actually her real eye.  It's always been like that."

"I remember everyone coming up to congratulate her.  I even went up to shake her hand.  She gave me the oddest look."

"Well, now you know why."  Viola sat down and pulled her feet underneath her, shivering.  Lupin put his arm around her and pulled her close.

"So, rotten cabbage was an improvement?  Describe how I smell."

"Remus, I don't—"

"NOW."

"It's pungent, acrid, a bit like burning tires with the h-harbor at low tide thrown in."  

"And you love me and want to be with me, anyway?"

"Yes, of course I do."

"Well, there's no problem then."  Lupin took her hand and kissed it.  "I'm honored that you would put up with a grape jelly-covered, smelly creature such as myself."

"You mean it?"  Iolanthe stared in shock.

"Well, at least now I understand why your family treated me as they did," he laughed.

"Oh, Remus."  She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him.  He carried her into the bedroom.

&&&

Basking in the afterglow, Iolanthe played with her lover's thick chest hair while thinking about the fact that she had one more confession to make.  "Remus, how keen are you on this honesty thing?"

"Very keen."  He took her hand.

"Well then, maybe I should let you know.  I was a virgin when we met.  I was embarrassed to say anything."  

Lupin pulled her closer to him and sighed.  "Viola, I think we've had enough honesty for one day."  They curled up together and fell asleep.

A/N:  Many, many thanks to all the kind reviewers for lending their support: Stargurl, Darkfire, Plastic, Ezmerelda, Arsinoe, Gethsemane, Sunshine Daisies, and Risi.


	6. Hermione in Cambridge

Chapter Six - Hermione in Cambridge

It all belongs to Rowling, except what you don't recognize.

A./N:  A huge thanks to my beta reader Ramos who, as usual, she had done a brilliant job!  Kudos.

This chapter and the one to follow were both written prior to the release of Order of the Phoenix. 

Hermione woke early on her first morning at Cambridge, feeling relieved that the N.E.W.T.s were over along with the looming pressure of a decision to be made.  Pulling on a simple Indian print cotton dress and sandals, she set out to explore in hopes that the sights of her new situation would distract her.  Unfortunately, though the dewy grass on the banks of the River Cam was delightful, as was the early morning mist wafting from the water, those did no more to distract her busy mind than the bun and coffee she bought at a bakery shop.  She found herself waiting impatiently until she could go to the registrar and get her library pass.  She felt like a runner waiting for the shot to be fired so the race could begin.  For a race it was.

She had taken off several weeks after her N.E.W.T.s to catch up with friends and family.  But this had left her more acutely aware than ever that a decision needed to be made and she feared if she were to mess up there would be no second chances.  She had to do her research and weigh her options, of which she felt there were only two.  Either follow up on what she had experienced with Snape or put it all behind her and get on with her life.  She only had a few weeks to do her research and make her determination before classes began and, she worried, her opportunity was lost.  She felt the seconds ticking away…

&&&

One week of determined study later had led Hermione to the realization that as impressive as the library had been at Hogwarts, it couldn't hold a candle to the magical sections of the University Library and all the other libraries Cambridge had to offer.  It was exhilarating and somewhat scary.  Like a guppy thrown into an ocean, she felt humbled after having been the intellectual shark in Hogwarts' kiddy pool for seven years. And she was no closer to coming to an understanding of the nature of a soul, or what a soul mating really represented, than when she started.

It had boiled down to a question of fate.  On the one hand was Sibyll Trelawney, who in her classes made one dire prediction after another of what "fate" was about to bestow on her hapless students.  One must discover one's destiny and humbly submit oneself to it, she taught.  Hermione had bristled against this woman's determination to crush beneath her feet the possibility of free will.  And, eventually, Hermione had left the class with the belief that this woman was no more than a charlatan.

Was she "fated" to be with Severus Snape?  Did their happiness rest on this pillar; on the few memories she had left of the experience where she had been one with him?  She didn't have the answer.  Strangely, she wished she had never left Trelawney's tutelage.  She wanted Trelawney to be right.  Then she could relax and say, "Yes, this is my destiny which I must fulfill."

On the other hand, Viola Iolanthe had written over 39 books and articles on the subjects of the aura and the soul.  Her curriculum vitae was impressive, having studied at Beauxbatons and later the Sorbonne.  Furthermore, there were another twenty articles written about Iolanthe's ongoing feud with Sibyll Trelawney.  It seemed that Witch Weekly and other publications couldn't resist writing about the ruckus that usually ensued whenever the two witches found themselves at the same round table discussion or even in the same room.  Iolanthe's thesis was that all was chaos in the Universe.  There was no destiny, no fate, and the soul was not some stable thing writ upon by the stars at the moment of birth, but rather a dynamic and fluid thing that changed with the moment.  She was fond of the string of beads theory of time and self.  The individual you were two seconds ago no more exists than the person you will become two seconds in the future.  And it was each person's responsibility to not waste a single second of the precious time in between because we create and are recreated by the decisions we make at every step of the way.  Sadly, as much as Hermione had previously ascribed to that theory herself, she felt her experience with Severus had proved Iolanthe wrong.

Hermione was sitting on the grass in a beautiful but not very quiet quad, enjoying the sunlight just like the throngs of students around her.  One of Iolanthe's books lay open on her lap, this one specifically written for Muggles and entitled "How to read Auras like a Witch."  Hermione wondered how the Ministry of Magic had allowed such a title to get past their censors.  She was also wondering how Muggles could be so gullible when her attention was taken by the wails of a baby.  The infant's mother was industriously changing its nappy and making soothing noises, while the child went crimson with anger.  

Hermione shook her head. 'Will I ever even want to be a mother?' she thought to herself.  'Look at all that noise coming from such a small helpless creature.'  The mother unbuttoned her blouse with one hand and when she'd bared one breast, pulled the baby's mouth up to it.  Hermione watched with fascination and embarrassment as the child's aura instantly went from…  Hold on, thought Hermione-- Did I just see that?

Hermione rubbed her eyes.  Unconsciously she had been trying out Iolanthe's technique and - it had worked!  It was only the first level, meaning only one color, whereas experienced aura readers interpreted entire palettes of color, all occurring and mixing all at once.  Yet still... the child had been not just red from wailing, but had been surrounded by a very angry shade of puce, which had changed into a contented pink when the baby latched on and suckled.

Hermione surreptitiously observed the mother.  She was covered in very pure light blue, the same color used in masterpieces for the veil of the Virgin Mother!  Hermione wanted to jump up and shout "Amazing!" but wisely decided against it, forestalling a red face and smirks all around.  The mother, however, did glance up at Hermione and peacefully smiled.  Yes, she was at peace feeding her baby:  Hermione could both see it and read it.  She quickly gathered her things and left for her room, where she sent an owl to Iolanthe right away.

Hours later, Hermione relinquished her cozy chair at the campus coffee house and prepared to make her way back to her digs once more.  She was exhausted, and her eyes ached from staring at auras all day.  While she could shut it off, the temptation to use her newfound skill was overwhelming.  Especially so, since she still didn't understand the meanings of half the colors she saw despite the interpretations given in the book.  The drive to master her new ability was overwhelming any sense of self-preservation she had for her tired eyes.  She'd been such a failure in Trelawney's classes and here she was doing it all on her own!  Surely, it had been the fault of the teacher and not the student that had led Hermione to drop Divination.

 The clerk behind the counter had just given Hermione her change from paying for a pastry to take back with her when she looked up into the eyes of an older man with silver shot black hair.  He smiled at her in a kindly way, but his aura was a poisonous shade of green. She gasped and the man's eye's narrowed at her in a most unpleasant way.

"I, I'm sorry," said Hermione trying not to stare at him. 

"Not at all.  No need to apologize, I think I must have startled you."  His smile then disappeared.  Hermione watched as his aura changed from green to jaundiced yellow.  Somehow he knew that **she** knew he was going to hurt, or perhaps even kill, her.  She didn't know why he meant to hurt her.  Could it be because he was a Death Eater?  She remembered that she had stayed in a safe house while studying for her N.E.W.T.s, even though Remus had thought it unnecessary.

Hermione swallowed her fear and tried to remember all that Madame Hooch and the other professors had taught her and the other students in preparation for the war with Voldemort and his Death Eaters.  Ducking quickly out of the shop, she carefully fingered her wand and prayed that the streets wouldn't be as empty as they were earlier in the evening.  Unfortunately, they were practically deserted, and Hermione hurried towards the sanctuary of her room.  The urge to run was overwhelming when she heard steps behind her in the empty passage leading to her building. 

She heard the gently spoken word, "Avada-" and threw herself to the ground to avoid the Unforgivable Curse.  At the same time that she hit the ground, she heard the curse cut off by a familiar voice shouting "Petrificus Totalis".  Bruised and scraped, she winced as she felt strong hands lift her and support her against a building.  Hermione realized that she had tightly squeezed shut her eyes.  Slowly she opened them, seeing a still body on the ground some ten feet behind the shoulder of her rescuer.

"So we meet again, Granger."  Draco Malfoy pressed his handsome body up again Hermione's.  "You owe me for saving your life."  His voice was smooth as silk and as sweet as honey.  "How would you like to come back to my flat in payment?  I'll make you scream out my name as I pleasure you."  

Hermione felt the tension begin ease out her body.

"And what, pray tell, will Mr. Greg Goyle do when he finds out you're cheating on him?"  Hermione whispered back seductively to him.  There was a dead silence and then they both snorted and started to laugh.  "By Merlin's Euphemism, I still can't keep a straight face with you."  Draco gave her a brotherly hug.  "How do you manage to get yourself into so much trouble, girl?"

Hermione sighed and realized she was trembling.  "Don't ask.  And what part are you trying out for?"  

"The theatre group here is planning a musical production of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde.  I've been practicing non-stop with Greg in drag.  But it's not the same.  When I had you there, I just couldn't resist."  He took off his robe, revealing a white silk shirt and black jeans, and draped it around Hermione's shoulders.  "You're trembling."  Concern wrinkled his forehead.  "Sit down here on these steps while we wait for the powers that be."

"That git nearly killed me and you're worried about a part in a Muggle musical!"  Hermione shook her head, "I'll never understand Slytherins!"

"All I can say is that I didn't expect a Gryffindor to be quaking like a leaf."  He put his arm around her and let her head rest against his shoulder.  "I just wanted to save the moment as a sense memory.  It's something a Russian Muggle director wrote about.  I'm sorry."

"How did you happen to be there?"

"I've been following you.  Greg overheard this shite," Draco nodded at the man on the ground, "bragging to Mrs. Goyle how he'd found Potter's mudblood friend in Cambridge and was going to get back at Harry.  We put two and two together, did a trace spell, and there you were.  After the way you had scampered off from Hogwarts earlier this year, I wasn't sure you'd actually be coming here."

"You did all that for me?"  There was awe in her voice.  She tried her new skill and saw him covered with a lovely shade of turquoise.  Platonic love, she thought.  "But why didn't you just warn me?"

"Greg and I didn't know if he was just working his gob or what.  So we've been taking turns following you whenever you left your student housing.  We couldn't have done it once classes had started.  And you are damned lucky that we all decided on the same college."

Hermione hugged him.  "Thanks."

Just then Ministry Aurors showed up.  Both Malfoy and Hermione told their stories and presented their wands to show that neither one had thrown the Unforgivable.  One of the Aurors mentioned that they'd been looking for the bloke and told Malfoy that in future he shouldn't be a hero and just let the Ministry know when he heard a rumor.  Then they left, taking the Death Eater with them.

Malfoy turned to Hermione, "Shall I walk you home, or do you want to come to our place?  Greg and I will fix you a nightcap and you can sleep on our couch."

"Just walk me home, please."  Hermione found she was no longer shaking.

"All right.  That's just as well.  There's something serious I wanted to talk to you about, and I know Greg wouldn't approve of my interfering."  Draco smiled ruefully.

"Well, get it over with."  Hermione was suddenly finding Malfoy a bit tiresome, in spite of her gratitude.

"It's Snape.  You know about half the members of Slytherin would be wearing dark marks and clawing the walls in Azkaban right now if it weren't for him.  He helped me and my friends make the right choice and then kept finding excuses for us to not be initiated.  He cared for us better than our own families.  I know that he got a lot of flack for playing favorites, but being a pure blood has never been easy.  It was either toe the line or be beaten or disowned.  Professor Snape understood the pressure we were under."  In the dim light of the steps, Hermione saw Draco's eyes glimmer with unshed tears.

Hermione remembered very well how, just days after Voldemort had been defeated, Draco and Greg came to Harry.  They told him that there had been an owl from Lucius and they thought they knew where Snape had been taken.  The two Slytherins, Sirius Black, Remus Lupin and Harry had launched an attack on the heavily warded Malfoy estate and ultimately rescued the Hogwarts professor.   Later, Draco and Greg had met with Harry, Ron and Hermione to ask their forgiveness for all the years of nastiness.  When Draco claimed he had only acted as his father expected him to and he'd had no choice, Harry and Ron had merely accepted the apology.  Hermione, however, had gone on to become close friends with the two of them, especially when they discovered a shared love of Muggle show tunes.  Harry had shrugged and said sometimes there were good reasons behind stereotypes.  Draco and Greg had been sneaking off to London's West End theatres since they were sixteen.  They both loved Broadway musicals best.

They were outside of Hermione's lodgings and she waited patiently for him to continue.

"After you ran away, Snape went barking mad.  He didn't eat or sleep.  All the seventh years were sure they'd fail their Potion N.E.W.T.s because it was obvious Snape only cared about finding you."  Malfoy paused, searching for the next words.  "We may be friends, Hermione, but I have to say this: you hurt him when you disappeared, and I think you owe him something.  I don't know, and I don't want to know what went on between you, but I think you should try and make things right.    I stopped by Hogwarts a couple of days ago, and, and he doesn't look well.  Not that he ever looked healthy, but he's aged years in just the past few months."  He ran his hand through his long, platinum blond hair.  "Just do something, damn it."  Draco looked down.  "Okay, I said it."

Hermione touched the young man's shoulder.  "All right, Draco.  I'll give it some thought.  I'm not sure what I'll do, but I'll try to figure out something."

Malfoy looked relieved. "Well, that's all I'm asking.  I don't think you want to know what everyone is saying."

"Harry and Ron already told me."  Her head started to throb. "Well, good night Draco."  She gave him a little kiss on the cheek.  "And I'm sure you'll do fine at the audition."

"I'm planning to glamour my hair black for it.  I might seem much more evil that way."  He gave a theatre villain's laugh.  "Goodnight, my lovely."  Draco started to walk away.

"I'd shave the goatee, it's a little too Leonardo DiCaprio."  Hermione called out.

"Leonardo who?"  He chuckled and started to sing, "To Dream the Impossible Dream, To Fight the Unbeatable Foe…"

A window opened up and a man's voice called out, "Oi, if you're going to serenade your girlfriend, get a room and do it proper."  The window slammed shut.

Draco gave a bow and continued to walk away. "This is my Quest, to follow that Star, no Matter how Hopeless…."

Hermione giggled nervously and headed up to bed.  It took her a long time to fall asleep.  And when she did finally sleep, her dreams were haunted by green lights shooting out and around her as she ran through dark alleyways and streets searching for something very special that she had lost.

&&&

Hermione had received Iolanthe's owl letting her know to meet at the Cambridge Tea Garden.  Once there, Hermione quietly sat amid a riot of both Muggle and Magical plants.  Some were vying for dominance.  The Flutterby Bush kept trying to shake off the Honeysuckle vine that had interweaved itself through its branches and, though one could hardly imagine it, the Muggle plants were somehow holding their own in this mixed garden.  More odd though was how the Snapdragons and Pixielilies peacefully cohabitated in the same flowerbed.  There were lovely white wicker chairs and glass-topped wicker tables.  Hermione had the garden to herself.  Two trays, one covered with sandwiches and the other filled with delicate pastries, appeared along with a beautiful silver tea service.  Hermione inhaled the scent of the tea mixed with the fragrance of the roses climbing the trellised walls of the garden.

Hermione choked on her tea when she spied a barely recognizable Iolanthe arrive.  The funny looking witch had been transformed into a walking advertisement from a fashion magazine.  She wore the latest in witches' haut couture -- robes of hand-dyed indigo, purple and marigold silk with gold threads woven through.  Her old beat-up witch's hat had been replaced by a fanciful confection of matching material complete with two cheeky cherubim and hovering hearts.  Her hair had been tinted a darker shade of red making it less blonde and more dramatic.  Her black eyeshades were gone, replaced with clear-lensed glasses, which beautifully highlighted her cosmetically enhanced yet still unfocused and wandering blue eyes.  She had on flat-heeled boots instead of the beat up trainers Hermione had last seen her wearing.  She was led in by a scarlet magical creature, which looked to be a cross between a mop and a Chinese dragon.

"Oh, Hermione.  Do I really look that bad?" Iolanthe moaned.  Just before she could bump into the table, the creature on the leash stopped her by letting out a short, high-pitched screech.  "You seem to be in complete shock.  Over my appearance, I'm assuming."

Hermione got up and gave her a peck on the cheek.  "No, you look beautiful.  Remus is very lucky.  I just didn't expect--"

"It's not my fault, love.  Almost the entire distaff side of my family descended on London to make my life a misery prior to the wedding.  It's been Milan for the clothing, Betsy Ross of Boston for the hair, Miramitsu of Tokyo for the boots, and the nails are by Sheila of Glastonbury.  She's my evil twin's nail artist.

Iolanthe showed Hermione her nails, which had been lacquered with animated romantic scenes of birds, waterfalls and rose-covered cottages. 

"Very nice-You have an evil twin?"

"Why yes.  Heather.  She got married at sixteen and has popped out a baby like clockwork every three years since.  So, of course, being her sister, every three years I'm forced to play doula and I'm subjected to the horrors of being Auntie Vi.  Oh, Hermione, they don't come much more evil than she does." Iolanthe gave a half-hearted laugh and brought out a paper bag from her matching handbag.  Iolanthe pointed to the paper bag, "For when I can't catch my breath, anti-anxiety charms tend to give me hives…"

Hermione wasn't sure if Iolanthe was having her on or not.  "Well, why are they all doing this to you?"

"Guilt, I'm afraid.  When I first introduced Remus their collective attitude was, "Oh, it's a cursed adventurer, let's hope he goes away.  Now it's, oh, he's back - DON'T let him get away."  Iolanthe gasped with weak laughter and started to breath into the paper bag.  "They've even sent their hit man of love, Fifi the House Elf to live with us.  She's a sure guarantee that nine months after our wedding night, I'll be pushing out some little Lupin.  There's not a contraceptus spell that she can't annul.  Not that I mind having children, it really is Heather's turn to play doula after all, it's just, well, I'd like to have a say on my own life, and I just don't have that anymore."

Hermione smiled sympathetically.  "Umm, so how's Remus handling it?"

"I have a paper bag and he, my dear, has a sense of humor.  He didn't even flinch when my cousin, Sherringford, and my brother, Rhys, cleaned out their closets and donated him a whole wardrobe.  He just laughed and said 'thank you'."  Iolanthe paused and Hermione felt rather naked as Iolanthe's eyes roamed searchingly over her whole body.

"But Hermione, as much as I love to complain, I'm here to talk about you.  Something that you wrote in your last owl post has me worried.  You say right here," she pulled out the parchment from her bag and handed it down to her familiar who trilled out a few lines.

"Yes, thank you Shaggy,

'Well, it would have been so much better had he accepted some responsibility for the discipline of our children.  I mean I was always left to be the mean one.  He absolutely refused to ever say no to them, they totally ran roughshod over him and he loved it.  He was so goofy, too.  He'd make this sock puppet…' "

Iolanthe took Hermione's hand.  "By the Gods, Hermione.  What are you on about here? You are eighteen and there are no children.  From what you have said here, it sounds like much more went on in that soul mating than you have led me to believe."

"You knew what happened.  You, you said you were familiar with what happens during a soul mating."  Hermione felt a bit defensive.

"How much of Snape's life did you experience in that moment you shared?"  Iolanthe asked breathlessly.

"His ENTIRE life, of course, from being born to being on his death bed."   Hermione's jaws and hands were both clenched and she felt her eyes prickle with tears.  "I experienced it all in a wink of an eye.  But you knew this.  Didn't you?  Didn't you?"  Even now, it was incredibly hard for her to talk about it, although before the N.E.W.T.s it had been impossible and unthinkable.  She had run long and hard away from it all, but now the time for running had ended.

Iolanthe began to hyperventilate again, but dropped her bag on the ground.  Hermione folded her arms and sat back with resentment.  However, after watching Iolanthe's futile search for the bag, she relented and helped her find it.  After a few minutes, Iolanthe spoke with awe,  "This is remarkable. And you say you took notes?"

"You didn't know the scope of what had happened?"  Hermione continued to feel outraged.  
  


Iolanthe continued breathing into her paper bag.  "No, Hermione," she gasped.  "I had no idea that you had experienced as much as you had.  By Merlin's Staff, no human being, much less a girl of 18 years should be put through such an ordeal. The man was a Death Eater.  I knew that something wasn't adding up, but had I known - no wonder you ran away.  You are a much stronger gel than I gave you credit for, and that is saying quite a lot."

"Actually, though it was rather awful living through the Death Eater phase, that wasn't what upset me most.  Well, I'm not a prude; however, the worst had to be knowing things that I just had no right to know at all.  Private male things, you know."  Anger flared in her eyes.

Iolanthe poked her nose out of the bag with lurid interest.  "Such as?" 

"Why wizards prefer to wear robes.  Oh, and all those years that he'd give us a potion assignment and then go sit up at the head of the class correcting papers.  Well, he wasn't doing that at all.  He was fantasizing about Hooch, our Quidditch mistress!"

"Oh, they weren't having it off, were they?"  Iolanthe tried not to seem too keen for the information. 

"No.  He was afraid to have a 'relationship' with her, so he'd just think about it.  For almost a decade he came up with scenarios of what he'd like to do with her, all while he was pretending to work!"

"My, my, aren't men such beasts?"  Iolanthe sniffed.  Her familiar gave out a whining protest.  "No, I didn't refer to you, Shaggy.  Oh, you'd like which one?

"Hermione, be a dear and give Shaggy the petit four with the little pink rosebud on it.  Oh, and I could use a cup of tea, black and with two lumps, and a roast beef sandwich if you see one."

Hermione huffed.  "Thank the gods he stops doing that after Hooch moves out from the castle.  I couldn't stand to think that he was still interested in **her**.  I just don't know how I'm going to go through with all this." 

"Back it up girl, back it up.  Do what?  You don't have to do a damned thing.  In fact, you should just forget that it all happened.  Walk away.  You want to think that somehow, because of what he shared with you that it's your fate to be with him?  POPPYCOCK!"  Iolanthe ripped off a bite of sandwich and chewed indignantly.  She sipped her tea and continued,

"There is no such thing as fate or destiny.  We make our own and you don't have to be with the man.  Not at all.  You are not responsible for him or his happiness.  If he didn't want a fling with Couch, er, no Hooch, well, it's not your problem.  There are lots of lonely, ugly, unhappy men in midlife crisis.  You can have your pick of them.  Just move on from this.  It will all fade with time, I'm sure."  Her hands fluttered around her as if she could dismiss him like so much smoke.

"It has been fading," said Hermione.  "That's what's so awful.  I feel like it's now or never.  If I don't do something, I'm going to forget what there was."

"Well, that's healthy.  You don't want him.  Yes, he has a lovely soul, for some people suffering does ennoble, but that doesn't mean he's right for you."

"But he worships me, or he will.  He's always wondering how he can make me happy."

"That wasn't a time machine you were cruising on.  He might be making promises that he is unable to keep.  And are you sure you are even happy with him in that vision or whatever you want to call it?"

"I seem happy.  But it all happens from his perspective.  I never tell him what I want.  I keep him guessing."

"You are a clever girl, then.  Let me reiterate.  Say you want a familiar.  You don't go into the Magical Animals Shop and pick out the scrawniest, mangiest, meanest creature there.  No, you choose the one who will be the best familiar you could ever want."  She reached down and gave Shaggy a little kiss on top of its dreadlocked head.  "A present from Remus."

Hermione thought about her own familiar, Crookshanks. 

Iolanthe continued, "Anyway, pity and sympathy should play no part in your selection of a mate.  And from what I have seen, Snape may be incapable of expressing himself emotionally, and be unavailable to you in many ways."

"I can't believe you are forcing me to defend him to you." 

"That's not what I am trying to do.  I just want you to realize that nothing is written in stone.  Even if he's happy with you, it doesn't automatically go that you will be equally happy with him.  You can't trust this, it's not fate."

"Why was I given this information, then, if not to use it?"

"There may be an alternative way of seeing this.  His soul is very interesting, quite unique.  And yours, well, it's a very pleasant soul.  Hopefully it will stay that way and you will have a lovely life without much trial or tribulation.  It could be that the stress of your near demise caused him, I don't know, to have some sort of electrical discharge which attracted your rather normal soul.  It may be that his soul took and imprinted on yours a possible future with you, like a courtship display."

Hermione looked mulish.  "Well, that seems a much weaker theory than what Trelawney teaches."

Iolanthe looked flabbergasted. "Oh please, NOT Trelawney.  My heart goes out to her for having to teach all that drivel to her students, you couldn't pay me to do that, but she has no idea of the nature of the soul.  She thinks it's fixed at birth by our planets and nothing, but nothing will change that.  Total, utter stuff and nonsense.  The soul is in a state of flux.  I watch and I see.  It's influenced and changed by people and events all the time.  So please, Hermione, don't feel that somehow you must follow up on this.  You are free to make your own choices."  She gave Hermione's hand a squeeze.    

Hermione was still unconvinced; after all she'd taken the time to do her research and knew the arguments, both pros and cons.

"And if Sibyll's dumping an entire punch bowl of trifle over my head didn't convince me otherwise, I don't think your anecdotal evidence will either."  Iolanthe snuck her nose back into the brown paper bag and breathed deeply.

"And if I do love him?" Hermione said in a small voice.

Iolanthe studied Hermione for a long two minutes and smiled.  "Well, then the blessings of Viola Iolanthe go to both of you, of course.   Ah, Remus has arrived.  Now perhaps, we can test out some of these theories."

A/N:  Many thanks to all the wonderful people who have reviewed and given me so much support on this story:  Hungarian Horntail, Ezmerelda, Achilion, Tangerine Kisses, Marie, Moonglow 10066, Risi, Crissy, and Plastic.  I couldn't have done it without you.


	7. Finding Hermione

Chapter 7 - Finding Hermione

It all belongs to Rowling, except what you don't recognize.

A/N: A huge hug and many thanks go to my brilliant beta Ramos, without whom I doubt that this story would have ever been done.

And many thanks also go to all the people who lent their support by reviewing this piece.  You are terrific!!!

With a glad cry, Hermione ran over to where Remus had entered the garden and gave him a big hug.  His long arms tightened around her briefly before he pulled back.

"How are you, Hermione?" he said searching her face.  At his side,  Shaggy whined, although whether it was concern or protest, she could not tell. "Now, now, no complaining.  In fact, I should be the one complaining about you."  Remus patted the head of the familiar that had wrapped itself around Iolanthe's legs.

"Shaggy figured out how to get past the wards to our bedroom around 4 AM last night and snuck into bed with us.  Remus threw him out again."  Iolanthe stood up and kissed her fiancé quite soundly.  "Hermione has been absolutely astounding me with her accomplishments.  She reads auras and now we're wondering if she can indeed see into the future."

"Did she mention her ability to avoid death by Unforgivable?" asked Remus.

"That was really Draco's doing last night," insisted Hermione quietly.

Iolanthe stamped her foot and sat down.  "Oh, that's it!  I'm hanging up my hat and leaving the business.  Young lady, you have been the ruination of me.  Come here."  Hermione did as she was bid and sat down opposite the older witch as she took off her glasses, which Hermione noted were darkly tinted from the inside.  Iolanthe hummed tunelessly as she began to scan the younger witch.  "There.  I found it.  You compartmentalize your feelings and then intellectualize and repress them.  Eventually they all spill over, but in the meantime, I am left playing the fool with you. Very well.  Now that Remus is here, we can proceed."

"I don't understand," Hermione protested.

"Well, of course you don't.  I haven't explained myself at all, have it?"  Iolanthe gave another half-laugh.  "Let's all sit down and have our tea."

Hermione was beginning to know what Alice at the Mad Hatter's Tea Party had felt like, especially when Iolanthe turned to Remus and said, with complete aplomb, "Dearest, Hermione was just explaining to me that during the soul mating she was privy to Prof. Snape's entire life." 

"The deuce you say?  Well, that would have anyone run screaming out into the night, I imagine." replied Remus looking from one witch to the other as Iolanthe calmly took a sip of tea before continuing.

"Now, Hermione  -- can you remember the last words he spoke to you in this vision or whatever?"

"Yes, I can. He said, 'I love you'."

"The exact words that you repeated to him in the pensieve."

"NO.  I told you before.  I never said that.  I was angry.  I yelled at him.  After all, he didn't seem to have a clue as to what had just happened.  How dare he blame me for him startling me."  Large tears began to roll down Hermione's face.  Her breath was ragged.  "Imagine going through someone else's entire life and then to get chewed out as if you were a five year old. Loving him was the last thing on my mind."

"And yet it came from your lips.  You were unconscious of it, because I believe it was the last of the imprint, the record, from his soul to yours.  If, as you have been insisting, that it was as straight forward as some fatalists believed, there would have been no such discrepancy between your recollection and Snape's."  Iolanthe sat back.

"That's it?"  Hermione was still trying to follow Iolanthe's logic.  "I'm not sure that I understand."

"His soul was trying to get a message across.  In spite of what was happening in the present moment, in spite of Snape being unaware of what had passed between you two, his soul, call it his higher consciousness, was reaching out attempting to manipulate you."

Hermione shook her head. "There you go again.  Why should you call communication manipulation?"

"Because more than a mating, it was a seduction.  He shows you a pretty picture of a possible future and then you spend the rest of your life jumping through his hoops."

"You are wrong."  Hermione tried to not sound irritated, but really--

"Very well then.  Prove it to me. Today should be a rather interesting day in the life of Prof. Snape.  Remus just returned from a meeting at Hogwarts.  Can you tell me, using Snape's recollection, what occurred?"

Hermione looked blank for a second, and then her face went white with horror.  "Prof. Dumbledore betrayed him.  First the abandonment by choosing to go away in a few weeks, sticking him with the headmasters position, and then, after all the work he'd done to find replacements…

Hermione turned to Lupin with shock.  "He's been afraid of you since he was a teenager.  He still has nightmares of you.  And **you are the new DADA teacher!  Hired by Albus Dumbledore."  **

Staring at the ground, for a moment her face crumbled, but then with no little effort she pulled herself together.  "Even worse, Harry's Godfather, Sirius Black is the new Transfigurations professor.  Someone who has never taught a single day in his life!  He's hurting and Prof. Dumbledore had blamed it all on Snape not being able to find good enough teachers."

Lupin looked chagrinned.  "Well, our Hermione seems to have done it again.  That was my news.  I've been hired."  He looked at Viola and smiled weakly.  "It seems certain members of the Iolanthe clan have been putting pressure on the Board of Directors to re-hire me at Hogwarts.  I suppose they want to see me able to support you."

"I wouldn't say that.  Once we are married, you wouldn't need to work another day of your life.  We are actually quite embarrassingly well off.  You don't have to accept the job, we can just sit around and do," Iolanthe blushed, "whatever all day.  I think this was more of what my family considers evening the score.  They are really and truly sorry about how they treated you, and they just want to make things good again."

"They are killing me with kindness," Lupin said nervously.

Iolanthe shrugged her shoulders.  "It wouldn't be the first time."

"And what about Sirius?" asked Hermione.

"That was Hooch's doing," said Remus.  "She felt Sirius deserved to have a better job than bussing tables in Hogsmeade.  I think Albus agreed with her.  To his credit, Padfoot did get top marks in his transfiguration N.E.W.T.s."

"In light of these revelations, my dear, I really must request a copy of that scroll you told me about."  Iolanthe coughed.  "If indeed this is all fated to pass, then I will need to published Gods only knows how many retractions.  Mind you, this is only theory.  There may be something else at work, which we haven't even been able to imagine, yet.  We shall have to track this very carefully."  She tapped one of her elaborately charmed nails on the table.  The birds in the design gave out an annoyed "tweet".

"I don't care about that.  I care about Severus.  He's miserable.  He's…" Hermione put her hand to her mouth.  "I have to leave right now.  I'm about to receive an owl."

Remus cleared his throat.  "I'm very sorry about Snape being upset over all this."  He gave Hermione an awkward hug, as she stood up to leave.

"Before you go, I'd like to grant you my blessing, if you will accept it."  Iolanthe seemed much calmer that she'd been a few seconds ago.  She'd had her say on the matter and Hermione was quite free to take or not take her advice.

Hermione nodded and came closer to Iolanthe's chair.  Iolanthe stood, raised her hands and placed them a few inches away from Hermione.   As she closed her eyes, Hermione felt a gentle breeze caressing her.  It was scented with balsam.  She heard Iolanthe's voice, chanting in some old language that sounded more like bells than words.  Suddenly she was no larger than a mote of dust, flying up into the air and dancing in a shaft of sunlight.  A dark primeval pine forest surrounded her, whispering to her.  She felt light and free.  Too soon, far too soon, she gently dropped back into her body.

"There you are, girl.  Back to us, safe and sound.  Well, since I may be joining Sibyl's happy little band of soothsayers soon, let me make a prediction.  I think everything will turn out well.  It won't be easy, but a young woman with your determination and sensibility will succeed where all others have only strife and failure."

Hermione quickly thanked the older witch and walked from the garden, her heart lighter even though she was still not sure of  her decision.   In the background she heard the two lovers passionately discuss the pros and cons of allowing Shaggy to sleep in the bedroom closet.

&&&

A large Hoot Owl was waiting for Hermione at her flat.  She took the note from it and gave it a digestive biscuit.  "Sorry old boy, no bacon today."  The owl made an obscene sound and flew off.  Hermione already knew that it had taken Snape a half bottle of fire whiskey to compose the note.  She already knew what it said.  She opened it anyway.  It contained a very polite apology and a request for her help.  But Hermione knew better.  If one read between the lines, it went more like this:

Dear Miss Granger,

Blah, blah, I'm sorry.  Blah, blah, blah, I'm very sorry.  Blah, blah blah, blah, I'm truly very sorry.  Blah, blah, I'm a horrible person.  Blah, blah, blah, I couldn't find a potions replacement to assume my position, so I require an assistant to help me in potions.  Blah, blah, blah,

Your eternal doormat,

Prof. Severus Snape, acting headmaster of Hogwarts.

Tears of anger welled up in Hermione's eyes.  She didn't want him to be sorry.  She wanted him to yell a bit about her disappearance, worrying the staff, her friends, etc, and even yell a bit more about how she was a stupid girl for not wearing the glove. After all he had been right and she was wrong.

She stroked the letter, feeling the residual vibrations from the clean up spell that he'd used for all the blots and cross outs on the parchment caused by his drinking.

She also felt angry with him for allowing himself to be so reduced and beaten down.  She began to rip up the missive, allowing the anger to flow freely through her body.  Something inside her seemed to shake loose along with the anger and the tears.  She gasped and held herself rocking on the floor, and finally was in touch with what she had lost: herself.

Her feelings about Snape and her memories of what she had felt and thought of him before that one fateful evening, when somehow his soul had captured hers, came rushing back to her.

She remembered how it was last September.  Her fear and resentment of him had caused her to tremble when she learned that she was to assist him in brewing up special batches of medicines and anti-hex formulas in anticipation of the rumored attacks planned on Hogwarts by Voldemort.

She remembered how after the first few sessions in the dungeons his vileness had melted away.  During their sessions together, she discovered that he was not the evil tyrant she'd always thought he was.

She remembered how by Christmas she knew she had developed a schoolgirl crush on him and was determined not to ruin things by giving rein to her feelings.  Then came the days of the war and Severus' capture and rescue.  She borrowed Harry's cloak and sat by his bedside after he'd been retrieved from the dungeons of the Malfoy Estate.  She had sat there, invisible, just holding his hand and willing him to be better.

She remembered her joy and contentment when he was finally able to resume his duties, and her delight when she was requested to continue to assist him even though there was no longer a war.

At that time, she hadn't wanted anything else but to quietly brew potions in his presence.  She didn't ask for love or affection or tenderness.  She didn't care if he even knew that she was alive.  To work beside him was enough.  

The soul mating had horrified her.  His childhood and adolescent pain became hers.  She experienced his taking of the dark mark at the behest of his lover, Narcissa, who then turned on him.  She had mocked him and his failures as a lover.  She had laughed and returned to the man she really loved, Lucius.  Tricked into giving himself to the Dark Lord, he never trusted another woman until Hermione.

She now knew what it was like to be both a Death Eater and a spy for the Light.  She felt pride for him where he only had self-contempt.  She understood how much he had done and sacrificed to make amends.  And though he would never forgive himself, she forgave him everything.

Total absolution was not easily given.  He could be petty and cruel, self-indulgent and then self-mortifying in turns.  Very often he directed his pain outward and lashed out at students and faculty alike.  And she knew he had been drowning before she came into his life.

She remembered watching herself through his eyes their first time making love.  She felt his joy when he finally accepted that she would not betray him.  But that trust had been hard won through literally years of his indecisiveness and angst.

She watched through his eyes as she sweated, moaned and screamed in childbirth.  She saw herself grow old through his eyes.  She watched herself at his deathbed, crying quietly and holding his hand, surrounded by loving children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren.

She had suffocated then.  Choked on a surfeit of information, she locked it all up inside of her and ran.  Running from her fate perhaps was a stupid thing to do, but her instinct had given her heels wings and so she flew.

All the puzzle pieces were now in place.  Knowing what she needed to do, she prepared for battle.  She decided on her wardrobe and hairstyle, but most of all, she marshaled her arguments of what she wanted from him and why.  She wasn't sure if this were to be a war of wits or a skirmish of the boudoir.    Tomorrow was the fateful day and she felt no assurance of success-- her memories having faded in so many places that even though she knew had to go from point a to b she had no recollection of how she'd actually done it.  She was scared but she knew she needed to confront and win him.

&&&

Severus Snape felt like a deep-sea fish that had been forced to the surface of the ocean. There was no sanctity left to his dungeons.  House elves with questions on the running of Hogwarts would pop in on him whether he was in the shower or on the loo.  Over the weeks, even with the end of the spring semester and summer break, there was no let up.  His herbs grew moldy from not being hung to properly dry. Pomfrey, not yet off to her new career, was reminding him two to three times a day that she was out of everything.  There were owls everywhere.

One morning in late August, the day after the shock of learning that both Lupin and Black were to be at Hogwarts that Fall, things went from merely horrid to beyond bearable.  

There were fifteen owls waiting for him in the dungeons and a further half dozen house elves.  A small mouse made the singularly poor choice to enter the area.  An owl feeding frenzy erupted, injuring several elves that were unable to get out in time.

Snape had taken one long look at the feather-strewn mess that his dungeon had become and made an abrupt about-face, walking away without conscious thought of his destination.   His feet took him towards his private bolt hole, a small side door which led him straight out of the castle.  A well-paced dirt track led him down the slope toward the lake.  He began to pick up speed as he unbuttoned his frockcoat, and he had it completely off by the time he entered the overgrown path around the lake that he had known so well in his boyhood.  By the time he had reached the hidden promontory over the lake, the jacket was dragging in the dirt behind him, along with his neck-cloth and not a few buttons had been lost on the path.

He was going to do something that he hadn't done since his last year as a student at Hogwarts.  He was going to sunbathe, or 'catch some rays' as the students said these days.

When he reached what used to be his secret, special place he could only sneer at the sight that greeted him.  There on the rock was painted 'Harry loves Ginny' and 'Draco and Pansy 4ever'.  His lower lip trembled with suppressed rage as he removed his wand and erased the graffiti.  Unceremoniously ripping his vest and shirt over his shoulders, he knelt on the ground, bundled the cloth into a wad and put it under his head.  Stretching out his long arms, he lay like an alter sacrifice on the hard ground.

Every bone on his rib cage was peaking out.  Normally lean, he was now rail thin after a spring and summer of non-stop harassment.  About the only improvement in him was that his sallow skin was now a pure, fish-belly white because he hadn't had the chance to work with any toxic herbs in months. His normally overtaxed liver was much healthier for the break.

Lying there, his wretched and overwrought body was soothed by the sun-warmed rock beneath him as well as by the bright rays as the sun rose higher in the sky.  Breathing deeply, he felt the tension begin to melt into the granite under him.  There was the sound bird song and the drone of insects.  He was finally alone and it was good.

Inevitably, he fell asleep, and sleeping, began to dream.  In this bucolic, peaceful setting, he was not surprised when his unconscious mind summoned the form of Hermione Granger.  This fantasy image leaned over him, brushing his lips with her own, gentle touches that slowly deepened into soft, lingering kisses, his passion for her as serene as the surroundings.  And then he woke, to find Hermione still hovering over him, her lips swollen with the kisses they'd shared.

"It's a good thing I came along," she said with a smile.  "You are turning lobster red."  She took his hand in hers, while holding a button in the other, and they vanished.

He winked back into existence on a bed in what looked to be a student's digs.  Her rooms, he surmised, as Dumbledore had told him that she'd be going up to Cambridge early.  

He tried to put some menace in his voice, but what came out seemed to squeak a bit.  "What is the meaning of this Miss Granger?  I'm a busy man.  I don't have time..."

"Oh quite right," she interrupted calmly.  "That's why you were snoozing up on that rock.  Quite.  Well, you and I have some business to discuss.  I believe you had requested my ongoing assistance even though I am no longer a student at Hogwarts."  

In contrast to her professional tone, her eyes slid down to his reddened chest.  "You know, you are very red.  Accio Aloe Vera Gel."  Her fine-boned hands pushed him back down on the bed.  "Just lay back for a moment."  Ignoring his speechless embarrassment, Hermione applied the unguent to his chest, making him gasp as the soothing cool gel spread over his inflamed skin.  

The gasp might have also contained a touch of panic as he realized that it felt perhaps a little too good.  Her hands on his bare chest were arousing him.  No woman had touched him in years.  He attempted to get up from the bed and made it as far as sitting up.  He felt rather dizzy.

Hermione hid a small smile as she watched his aura changed from a platonic turquoise to amorous lavender.  Her new talent was helping her find the courage to continue, even as he sputtered and attempted to stop her.

"Miss Granger, this is highly unorthodox.  I really must return..."

"Not before we have completed our negotiations."

"You have me at a disadvantage."

"Yes, I suppose I do.  Now, in your letter you mentioned that you needed an assistant."

It was nearly comical to watch Severus attempt to regain his equilibrium and answer her comment.  "Why, yes, I do."  It was not often a Hogwarts' employment negotiation occurred while the Headmaster was half-naked, lying on a bed.  And if it did, Hermione really didn't want to know about it.

"Well.  Considering our past relationship, I felt it best if we were to hammer out our terms before I accepted your offer."

"That's perfectly understandable," Snape said with a nod and a trace of his normal confidence.  

"Now.  First of all, because I do not wish any aspersions cast about my character or innuendoes as to why I am helping you, I need it to be very clear to the rest of the world that you only hired me because I am your fiancée and you wished to keep a close eye on me."  She inwardly smiled at the complete reversal of logic.  However, she knew in the Wizarding World this was quite true.  Only by allowing people to think the worst would they ever get past the scandal.  The more they protested their innocence, the more gossip there would be.

Severus Snape sat up abruptly, despite her nearness.  "WHAT!  Miss Granger!  What kind of cruel joke are you playing?  I don't deserve this treatment." His aura flickered with unease and pain, shot through with disbelief as he tried to deny how her words and proximity had affected him.  Perhaps he thought she was insane, and Hermione could not deny that, from his perspective, her behavior had been very odd of late.

"Oh, you shall get all you deserve, and more so.  Yes, I do wish to marry you, but there are some conditions.  One -- you must never apologize to me again, unless you are quite sure you are in the wrong.  I shouldn't have taken off those gloves while cutting that toxic substance; I might have died.  You were right and I--I messed up.  Feel free to be nasty, perhaps not all the time but at least when you believe I am not living up to my full potential.  Also, you must not forget to sneer and be very arrogant, especially around other people."  She took his hand and gave it a little squeeze.  

He felt his heart pounding like a hippogriff trying to escape a cage.  "Sneer, yes, I think I could do that."  He wondered if he was suffering from sun poisoning and was in fact still at Hogwarts in a delirium. 

"Good." Hermione dropped his hand and then settled herself behind him.  Those delicate looking hands began to massage the cording at the base of his neck.

Snape began to protest, but his words were lost when she released a knot that left him gasping in relief.  It was several long minutes before he could gather his thoughts and ask her a question.  "Why, may I ask, would you want to marry someone like me?  I'm old, ugly, have a horrid disposition and did wretched things as both a Death Eater and as a spy."  Good Gods, does that neck massage feel good, he thought.  He tried not to moan as she released another knot and failed.

"I don't wish to insult you," he continued, "but the Snape fortune is gone and I have a definite reputation as a lousy lay."

Hermione snorted.  ermHH"Well, it's not about sex, nor money, either.  Maybe it's about the way you walk, and the way you sound, your wit, the artful way you brew potions, and the beauty of your hands.  I want to be with you because you are a complex man and I think you will always be somewhat of a mystery to me no matter how well I think I know you.  And I hope that you will always expect the best of me and I shall do the same for you."  

Her hands paused, and he would have pouted if her next words had not chased all thoughts of neck rubs from his brain.  "I love you, and I want your children."

"Children!"

"Only about a dozen, maybe a baker's dozen.  And not right away, maybe we'll start a decade or so from now."

"Miss Granger, I fear you are overestimating my abilities.  I'm rapidly approaching middle age."  Somehow, he failed to notice he'd gone from protesting the possibility of their marriage, and had instead gone on to the enumeration of their future children.  He did notice, however, when Hermione placed her hand on top of his thigh.  They both noticed his reaction, and with mutual gratification.  

"Oh, I think you're capable of at least a half dozen.  And wizards aren't middle aged until they hit 75, you must have at least another 30 years to go before then."

Severus sighed and thought; yes the world has gone mad, but rather in a delightful way.  "Is there anything else, Miss Granger?  Would you like me to slay a few dragons for you while I'm at it?  You are demanding quite a lot from me to get a potions assistant."

"Well, I don't come cheap, but I'm worth it.  Oh, and you may call me Hermione."  She leaned around him and gently brushed her lips against his ear.

He groaned out, "Hermione, right."  His mouth found hers.  And after a few minutes of bliss, he managed another coherent sentence.   "Well, Hermione.  I have one more question."

Hermione's heart gave a little thump, hoping whatever it was, she'd answer correctly.  "Go ahead."

"Why did you run away?"

She could feel his breath stop as he waited for her to answer, and she didn't need to read his aura to know how important this was to him; her headlong flight had almost literally torn his world apart.  Unfortunately, she didn't think he was quite ready to know just how fully his soul had been exposed, and she sought to give him a truthful answer that would not disconcert him further.  "I felt overwhelmed by the intensity of the experience.  I mean… when you kissed my hand, that is.  I felt quite sure that I wouldn't be able to keep it to myself and then you might be in trouble.  I suddenly realized just what you meant to me, and how much more I wanted.  That was more than a little frightening to me."

He frowned, confused.  "But, I, we, there was no impropriety.  A kiss on the hand, wasn't…"

"Wasn't sexual?  No, but I suppose there was a certain level of eroticism, though.  You know, Professor, I'm not inexperienced.  Not since the summer I spent with Viktor Krum."

"Victor Krum!" he responded in scathing tones.  "By all that's sacred, he's worse looking than... "  Severus trailed off, not sure how to extricate his foot from his mouth.  After a moment, he continued.  "What I mean to say is, what an interesting taste you have in men, Miss…. I mean Hermione."

When Hermione merely smiled, enjoying his discomfiture.  He muttered under his breath, then slid off the side of the bed and stood up, adjusting his trousers.  He took a few paces one way, and then the other, obviously annoyed at the small size of the room.  Finally, running one hand through his hair, he ceased his pacing and turned to face her.

"Miss Granger?  Hermione?"

"Yes?"

His sneer was textbook Snape.  "Would you marry me?" 

  
After her affirmative answer, the rest of the afternoon was spent in a very long snogging session, complete with gently murmured words of endearment slung every which way.  All too soon, it became obvious that they had reached a point of no return.  Rather than risk a rather embarrassing mess in his clothes, Severus chose to take his leave.  

Even as he assured her of his desire to stay, to continue and even further their current activity, he was gripped by the fear that perhaps he was still high up on that rock, dreaming all this.  Traitorous tears stung his eyes, despite his attempt to hide them.  Somehow, Hermione read his anxiety and wrapped her arms around him, soothing him with whispered assurances and promised that, for the time remaining before her classes began, she would be at Hogwarts everyday, bright and early to help him.   Once she'd finished school, she would be with him forevermore.   He held and kissed her hand before Apparating back to Hogwarts.

Professor Severus Snape staggered into the faculty room.  His hair was mussed; his white shirt was open at the neck exposing wiry black hair and a beet red chest.  His vest was only partially buttoned and the buttons were misaligned at that.  His lips were swollen and bruised beneath his prominent and sunburnt nose.

"By the Gods, man, what has happened to you?  Were you attacked by rogue Death Eaters?" cried Vector's replacement, Madam Whatshername.

"Tea," gasped Snape.

Shaking, he sat down in a wing chair, wincing at abused muscles that he had forgotten he even had.  He accepted a cup from Professor Sprout-Filch.

"So what happened?" asked Hooch. "You look a fright."

"I'm to be married."

There was the sound of a teacup crashing onto the floor.

"Quick, get the man some brandy, he's delirious," cried Binns.

"But to whom, Severus, to whom?" piped in Flitwick.

"Well, it won't happen until after she graduates college, of course."  First one muscle on the side of his face began to twitch and then the other.  And then a sound, ragged and unused and not heard at Hogwarts for over two decades broke forth.  Snape laughed.  Minerva McGonagall felt a shiver down her spine and wondered if hell was about to freeze over as well.  "But then, if she still wants me, I shall be wed to Miss Granger."

"Get Madame Pomfrey, the poor man's lost his mind," murmured Professor Sprout-Filch.

Hooch began to laugh, too.  It was infectious and soon everyone in the faculty room was laughing, clapping the "dirty dog" on the back, making him glad only his chest were burnt, and wishing him luck.  Anyone in the room who had taught Miss Granger in the past seven years knew she was a force of nature and a law unto herself.  If she wanted to be Mrs. Snape, who could gainsay her?  Eventually the teacups were collected and shot glasses brought out.  With a twitch of Flitwick's wand, invisible musicians played and the house elves brought in a feast.  Celebrations went well into the wee hours.

And all had a good time was had by all.

 "One does not discover the absurd without being tempted to write a manual of happiness."

Albert Camus,

_The Myth of Sisyphus_, trans. By Justin O'Brien, 1955

The End


	8. Chapter One Heading On Up

The Hunt for Hermione – Author's Notes

I just wanted to take a moment to thank everyone who reviewed Chapter 7: Angelina, Karen, Rosmerta, HPZ26, DarkFire10, Jeanne, Cosmo-Queen, Kate and Ezmerelda.  I appreciate all of you so much!  Hugs!

And again, a special thanks to my beta, Ramos


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